Mass Effect: The Terran Gambit
by informedterran
Summary: AU: A quickly advancing Humanity discovers early on the fate of the ancient Protheans and the threat of the Reapers. Instead of exploring the galaxy with wonder and optimism, the leaders of the Terran Nation prepare their young race to save themselves. When they finally make First Contact, they begin their ultimate gambit; To ready all the galaxy to fight the Reapers!
1. Prologue

_Mass Effect: The Terran Gambit_

\/\/\/\/\/-Author's Notes-\/\/\/\/\/

Hello, I'm the informed terran and this is the prologue for the Terran Gambit.

 _Standard Fanfic Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect, its content and characters, etc._

This is an Alternate Universe (AU) fic, with many new OCs, and familiar names you may know.  
Its a Sci-Fi story, with plentiful mix of Action, Humor, Suspense, and Drama,  
and bits of more throughout the story.

Here, humanity learns of the Reapers early on and devote itself to stopping them.  
However, most do not know this is the case.  
It is humanity's most guarded secret.  
A secret that had been the unknowing driving force of man.  
And the simple knowledge of such a dark secret  
can dictate the course and actions of entire races, and even the galaxy!

This humanity differs somewhat from the Mass Effect humanity, initially anyway.  
Humanity will, thanks to their own natural swiftness in advancement,  
(And what they could find from the ruins)  
have a distinctive tech edge versus the Council,  
But they are not outright more advance,  
A fact to haunt both sides when the time comes.

Before we start, I wish to give a shout out to two authors: _ProfFartBurger_ and _Full-Paragon_.  
Their stories were the first fanfics I ever read, which inspired me to write my own.

More importantly, a special thank you to my beta-reader, **MoonSword1994**.  
My deepest thanks for helping me write my fanfic.

This prologue will be quickly followed with the first chapter.  
I hope to publish once every one to two weeks.

Thanks for your interest. I hope you enjoy, and please feel free to give review and feedback.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

* * *

Full Description Summary

The Galactic cycle is nearing its end.  
Its inhabitants, merely crops grown by greater beings, are unaware of the great threat that is about to reap what they have sown.  
But as the several millennia long civilizations rest on their thrones,  
a new up-starter takes to the stars.

After a sudden burst of technological, social, and political advancement in the late 21st century,  
a united humanity, the Terrans, reached out into the stars.  
Inspired by the stories of old of the potential of what they may find, they expand and advanced at seemly impossible rates.  
They were insured that they could face whatever they find.  
The Terrans were optimistic that fate and destiny was on their side.

But when they discovered the Prothean ruins on Mars,  
the leaders of Terra discovered somethings far greater than technology and Element Zero.  
Their optimism gone, they readied their fledging nation.  
They prepare to survive the coming of what the Protheans simply called  
"The Reapers".

Now at the dawn of First Contact, the Terrans have taken their cause to the rest of the galaxy.  
Here they shall make the ultimate gamble to ready the entire galaxy to fight a threat of truly galactic proportions.

Here begins the great Terran Gambit; to ready the galaxy against the coming of The Reapers.

"There… are forces in the works. Ancient beings that look down on us…  
They go by no name. But the Protheans themselves had a word for them… Reapers, Saren."

– Jack Harper; Section 14

* * *

 _Prologue_

 _ **2040**_ _: As oil fields across Earth run dry, unrest spreads across the world. The new world powers scramble to restore order as each competed with each other for dwindling resources. After a minor nuclear exchange and a series of stressing wars, more power is invested into the reformed United Nations to resolve the great energy crisis as new powers form and the old ones reorganized for the times ahead._

 _ **2058**_ _: In what is considered the Great Miracle of '58 and the start of the Atomic Revolution, a UN lead science group consisting of the greatest minds from across the world succeeds in the development of compact fission and high yield fusion power. Under an emergency mandate by the UN and approved with the backing of the Security Council, this new technology is distributed across the world, with heavy funding from the world governments to have nations and businesses adopt it as the main power source across the planet._

 _ **2061**_ _: In three years, the energy crisis slowly becomes a thing of the past as near unlimited energy and advance energy efficient technology spread a new wave of global progress and advancement. Where there was once war for resource and survival, a new era diplomatic and cooperation begins, though tensions remain on more ideological lines._

 _ **2061**_ _: While a new global initiative among the people of each world power spread for the unification the Humanity, many once bitter national rivals begin to channel their old competitiveness with the start of a new space race to determine which nation shall lead humanity into the final frontier. Humanity pours it effort into leaving their now conquered Earth for the stars, with everyone watching for which country will lead the way._

 _ **2063**_ _: The US takes the initial lead, amazing the world scientific community with the creation of the Alcubierre-Cochrane Warp Drive, named after both Miguel Alcubierre, the twentieth century scientist whose initial FTL theory was the basis for the drive, and the fictional Zefram Cochrane for the twentieth century TV show "Star Trek", who in the show's lore created the warp drive in the same year, with the show being the initial inspiration of Alcubierre's theory. The US tests the first warp capable ship in April, and succeeded in warping a small crew to the edge of the solar system, send a message at light speed back to earth, and return to hear said message days later with the rest of humanity._

 _ **2070**_ _: Each major nation begins construction of large colony ships to send humanity into the stars. The next Space Race is born. New organizations and treaties are formed, including the Russo-American Star Alliance, the Greater European Union, the British Star Empire, the Pan-African Union, and the Pan-Asian Coalition; Each power racing to reach the stars._

 _ **2078**_ _: Quantum Dimensional Theorist Maria Cooper unveils working proof into the concept of 'Hyperdrive'. Too advance for its time, the possible method of FTL is scrapped as more focus is placed on creating sustainable space fleets and colonization._

 _ **2090**_ _: Global protest emerge as numerous colonies from each power fails to establish humanity's reach into the stars, the disaster of Alpha Centauri being the latest failed extra-solar colonization. With combinations of different failures among each power, many began to feel that they and thus humanity would be stuck on Earth for the foreseeable future. The economy begins to sink as the failed colonies draw resource for the still depleted Earth and investors begin to favor inter-solar exploration to bring resource to the home world._

 _ **2095**_ _: Numerous colony ships from each power all happen upon a planet in the newly explored system of Utopia in the UN named Exodus cluster, several thousand light years from Sol after a year of travel. Lacking FTL communications to ask for new orders from Earth, and having somehow discovered that each other's ships have the material or people needed to really form a theoretically successful colony, the captains of each ship agree to pull their resources and ships together to form a unified colony. The colony was, after a rocky start from the merging of different people, a resounding success, quickly forming new cities across the planet._

 _ **2099**_ _: The unified colonists of Utopia-2 prosper in the new eden they have created. With the old ships and limited manufacturing on the agricultural planet, they succeed in constructing a return craft to Earth and renamed the planet Eden Prime as a testament to their world. The arrival of the ship to Earth was a sudden surprise to the global powers, which, having discover that they sent ships to the same planet a few years back, were now on the verge of an all-out war. The New Year and new century is celebrated with the success of the colony and avoiding the fourth World War. The new global Union-Nationalist party uses the news of a unified colony to win support in several governments to push world unifying agenda._

 _ **2101**_ _: Explorers on the Alliance Starship USS Armstrong, while researching the reinstated planet of Pluto, discover that the ice ball moon of Charon seem to contain a large metallic object in it. Upon close approach, a signal was sent to the ship from the object, having translated simply as a request for the ship to respond with information about its mass. Captain Albert Donnelly ordered a reply be sent. Suddenly the entire moon evaporated as the huge object fires a lightning bolt on the Armstrong, sending the ship in seconds to an entirely new system, with an identical object at the end. Upon repeating the process to return to Earth, new reports begin to flood in of identical objects in other systems, including Utopia. Discovering quickly enough that each one is linked to one another in a relay like design and on the general method of how it was able to send ships hundreds of light years across space in seconds, they were quickly named 'Mass Relays'._

 _ **2101**_ _: Terraform scientists on Mars come across an ancient ruin while drilling for underground aquifers. The ruin contains ancient, but advance computers and stores of an unknown material. Archeologists quickly decipher some language and announce, just days after the public announcement of the Mass Relays, that the ruins were clearly alien in nature and of a very advance race at that._

 _ **2105**_ _: Humanity, now coping from the proof that advance life exist in the galaxy and were so close to Earth, underwent a massive social and political revolution. The two main global political parties, the Terran Nationalist and the Terra Firma party, began rallying the collective might of humanity to form a single unified government to run the homeworld and her colonies. While divided over several issues on the baseline ideology for such a new government, both work together to create a unified humanity._

 _ **2110**_ _: The leaders of the world meet in New York in the UN headquarters to sign the Charter of the United Earth, unifying Earth and the home world humans. The creation of a global government is put into effect, with each of the major world powers investing token amounts of power into it._

 _ **2112**_ _: UE Scientist creates the first sentient Artificial Intelligence. Consisting of the most advance coding to date and the neural structure from brain scans of the greatest minds in history, it displayed near-infinite processing, tapping into the very nature of quantum mechanics with is quantum CPUs. But in what is considered the most important aspect that scientist point out to be the proof that AI development can be successful, showed human qualities of understanding and morality. Being however very unstable, its kernel collapsed, but not before leaving the scientist a vastly weaker but stable code to allow future AI creation._

 _ **2120**_ _: The second generation of AIs was created. While not as advance as the first, now called by both humanity and the self-referred synthetic humans as Adam, they showcase very human behaviors, with advance computational intelligence and thinking. Though their personality matrix is considered bland, like any organic humans, they develop in personality over time._

 _ **2121**_ _: The nearby relays around Sol are mapped out, leading to new colonies both within the path of the network and off the beaten path in systems far from a relay. Due to more garden worlds being located along the Galactic east of Sol, exploration in the designated Beta Quadrant is extensive while very few colonies exist in the Alpha Quadrant, west of Sol. Human populations outside Sol increased at an exponential rate._

 _ **2122**_ _: Fears escalate that the large amount of colonies off Earth, totaling now at four billion Humans to Earth's nine billion, might want to secede from a government that they have no voice in. This fear, echoed especially deeply among American home worlders and colonist alike, pushes both the Nationalist and the Firmist to form a new government that gives the colonies an active voice in how the unified government of humanity will work._

 _ **2123**_ _: United Earth intelligence, with help from the AI syntha-humans, finishes decoding the proclaimed "Prothean" ruins' computers on Mars. After a review with the highest members of each of the governments on Earth, the info was declared classified and official news state a dead-end in research into the ruins. With increased interest on other Prothean ruins on other worlds, interest on Mars wanes, the new military shipyards in orbit taking interest instead._

 _ **2125**_ _: The United Terran Federation is born. With a grand compromise, the Nationalist and the Firmist working on the unifying constitution shall forever be known as the Founders, the men and women who would unite all of humanity. On June 1st, Unification Day was declared, the political moniker of Terran being adopted as the name for all its citizens. Many hope and long for the day such a title no longer simply refers to humanity. By August, all of the world's militaries were merged into the Federation Army and Star Navy._

 _ **2126**_ _: Several companies and private science groups working on a joint venture to apply quantum physic studies on Massatianium accidentally discover the technology to create cheap and abundant antimatter. In spite nearly being killed by their initial discovery, scientist quickly rush to utilize it as a fuel. Almost immediately, the Federation announces its adoption as the main fuel for all ships._

 _ **2127**_ _:With help from the science team of famed FTL Theorist Henry Bowman, a modern illustration of the Hyperdrive is created and adapted to be hybridized with the proven Warp Drive. With the now mostly understood Massatianium that was discover on Mars and being discover across the Beta Quadrant being a key part of maintaining antimatter reactors, demand for it increases for both that and in industrial uses. Scientists remain stumped on how it is able to project a field that changes an object's mass, pushing greater research into quantum physics._

 _ **2131**_ _: The first wave of modern exploration begins across the galaxy, spearheaded by the first hyperdrive capable ships of the Terran Navy. Lead by notable figures such as Jon Grissom, Anne Darya, and Jonathan Bowman, they push out into the unknown areas of the surrounding galaxy. Though the decade long exploration leads to new planets for colonial candidates and a new wave in scientific discovery, all official reports indicates the lack of any intelligent life in their discovery. When exploration on a large area of the Beta quadrant not connected by any known relay ends with several loss ships, exploration ends and increase interest in colonizing discovered area continue._

 _ **2135**_ _: The Federation Congress approves a new twenty five year plan to expand the Navy and Army. For the Navy, a unified fleet of standardizes ships consisting of scout ships, light, and heavy cruisers are to make the bulk of the fleet, and are to bolster both the scientific and military might of the fleet. For purely military purposes, Battlecruisers and Aircraft carriers are to be built, not to the same amount as the dual purpose ships but to a very large degree. Then, large Flagships are to be built to act as mobile centers of the fleet and to be built to be large and purposefully intimidating. Finally, large starbases are to be built across the Federation to defend main and secondary colonies and key junctions. In spite of the huge budget needed, many key Founders voiced their support to ensure the safety of the Federation against unknown threats. Combine with the Firmist gaining control of the congress in the 34' election, the plan passes, plunging the government into hundreds of trillions of Federation Dollars in debt for the next few decades._

 _ **2138**_ _: Children that were born near areas containing large concentration of Massatianium, including Fleetyards and mining worlds, begin to exhibit what is only able to be classified as telekinetic abilities. Congress begin to track and monitor humans with such abilities, going as far as passing a new Human Evolution Progression act to give the government the right to do so._

 _ **2139**_ _: After discovering that trace amounts of the still mysterious Massatianium found embedded into the person's nerve system was the key to how they can do such abilities. Scientist discover that exposure to the compound in dust form during embryo would cause such abilities. Warnings are quickly issued however to avoid exposure, since a vast majority of pre-natal exposure results in dangerous cancer and tumors._

 _ **2140**_ _: Shipyards are constructed all over the core region of the Federation. In spite protest over the staggering size of the navy at a point when the Terrans lack any existing foreign threat, twenty thousand ships are pushed into service, from small 50 crew frigates to 2000 crew battle cruisers. Five thousand are put into the Sol Fleet to guard Sol and Earth while the rest are put into the First, Second, and Third fleet. An additional fifty-five thousand are still planned to be built. While creating an economic boom and the belief among colonist that the federation colonies are safe, massive protest over the expansion and cost continue._

 _ **2142**_ _: The first flagship is built at just over four kilometers long and over 4 million tonnes. Its approval came due to a political move to have them classified as 'mobile starbases'. With one planned for each thousand ships, each cost nearly the same as a hundred battle cruisers, but in spite protest, more are built. New projection puts construction at eighty trillion over budget and a ten year delay. Paranoia on the home world increases over increase government power._

 _ **2149**_ _: The Great Revival, a major social experiment orchestrated by subversive elements within the Federation Intelligence Force, leaves a bitter scar throughout the 2140s, testing the unity of humanity to the extreme after a devastating uprising and subsequent war on Earth. The timing is still considered ominous as a colonial Golden Age reign across the young Federation, while the Sol system was completely blockaded to hide the war on Earth. Though the Federation emerged politically stronger than ever before, the human homeworlders of nearly ten billion distance themselves from the colonist and spacer humans that outnumber them by now fifteen billion. A combination of military conscription and aggressive laws are implemented to make homeworld humans leave to explore the stars, leaving the more conservative Earth behind._

 _ **2155**_ _: Government and social programs are commissioned to train the "Masskinetic" humans to use their powers in the outer world. With both the Nationalist and Firmist parties divided on the issue, the Federation military opens its door to them, leading the way on what new jobs the kinetics can do, and integrate them into society. Laws are passed to prevent any form of discrimination._

 _ **2160**_ _: Construction finishes for the sixty-fifth thousand ship, leaving the Federation with twenty five thousand in the Sol Fleet, and ten thousand in each of its four fleets. A combination of personnel and maintenance expenses become a focal point of budgets in the federation congress. Market analysts predict a decline as the rest of federation space is colonized._

 _ **2164**_ _: Running on a moderate platform for the Nationalist, former Admiral Jonathan Bowman wins the Presidency, taking a solid 65% of the popular vote. This leaves his closest opponent in the Firmist at only 28% and 2% for third party candidates. 5% abstained their vote, an option on the ballot in a nation with mandatory voting. It shall become the largest abstaining since the first election in 2128._

 _ **2165**_ _: The network of Star bases and outpost are finished across the core and main region of Federation space. The 75th thousand ship, the flagship FSS Thunder Child FGCC-1897 is pushed into serves, acting as the head of the newly minted Fifth fleet, with the young, talented Steven Hackett acting as the newest Fleet Admiral. The Army expands to twenty five million strong with the Navy at a hundred million, the marines making up twenty million of that number. With over thirty billion citizens and ¾ of them able to serve, the estimate of nearly two hundred million service men and women takes up less them a percent of the population. Economic analysts remain divided on whether the massive debt can be paid back. The newly invented Atomic Forgers, or 'Replicator' makes maintenance cost far lower than predicted, but large personnel expenses keeps the military consumption at nearly 40% of the annual budget, with the threat of economic collapse looming over the nation._

 _ **2167**_ _: The Federation renews expansion into the Alpha Quadrant, the southern region, and the border between the Beta and Delta Quadrant._

 _ **2167**_ _: First Contact._


	2. 1: First Contact Trifecta

**Act One: Contact**

 **Chapter One: First Contact Trifecta**

* * *

 **Part 1:**

 **Council Contact - Widow Nebula  
May 31, 2167 13:30:00 UTC**

The FSS _William Clark_ CVCC-1812 cruised towards the relay at the other side of an otherwise empty system. On the small circular bridge, Commander Daniel Robertson sat on the captain's chair in the center of the bridge. Nearing the end of the late morning shift, he finished his report on the info screen being holographically displayed from his smart watch. The main elevator on the front left side of the bridge then opened up, where Captain Kwesi Akachi walked in with the bridge crew of the afternoon shift. Robertson and the rest of the bridge crew stood to attention.

"Captain on the bridge," said Robertson. He saluted the captain and he shifted over to the XO seat left of Akachi's.

"As you were Commander," said Akachi in his slight South African accent as he took his seat. "Have we arrived at the relay yet?"

"Not yet Captain, ETA three minutes." He grabbed the hologram screen over his watch and handed it over to Akachi. The captain took it and placed it over his own watch to transfer the data with it.

"I see. Akira, jump to warp. Let's get to the next relay, now."

"Aye, aye Captain."

The _Clark_ was a small corvette, falling in the scout ship range of Terran naval classification. She had a circular saucer design that housed the main ship interior with an attached rectangular secondary hull that held engineering. Her two warp nacelle, which housed the warp coils for manipulating space, were closely attached on either side of the secondary hull. She was just shy of a hundred meters with a crew of sixty and was designed for short-range recon and exploration. In what was unusual for her mission, she had been assign to relay exploration just by herself, straight from command. Normal operation regulations stated at least three scout ships were assigned into squadrons for any mission. Though solo missions were more common in the past. However, there was no accident why this small ship and fresh crew were alone.

"We're approaching the relay Captain," informed Akira.

"Thank you, Ensign. Robertson, what do we know of this relay?"

"Not much. Based on its positioning and condition, it's pointed towards the galactic west and has yet to be activated," said Robertson.

"Have that mark on the maps. Akira, drop out of warp and begin final approach."

"ETA 15 seconds."

The United Terran Federation had spent the last few months expanding into the region designated the Alpha Quadrant, located on the galactic west of Sol, which was a position on the Y-Axis of the southern section of all galaxy maps. On the galactic scale, two dimensional maps working to map out the relay system. While the Terrans had expanded deep east into the Beta Quadrant, its border were only a few hundred light years into the Alpha Quadrant. Many minor colonies, like the distant Shanxi, were only a few relays jumps away from Arcturus.

The AI Peter projected a miniature avatar of himself on the hologram projector between Akachi and Robertson. His holo avatar projected a young man dressed in civilian attire, sitting backwards on a folding chair.

"We're about to hit the relay in five seconds," the AI said.

"We're on active duty. Be presentable, Peter," said Captain Akachi to the hologram. He nodded to the captain and changed his clothing into the naval operation uniform as he stood to attention in between them.

Akira turned her head to them. "Activating relay."

The _Clark_ sent the hailing signal, activating the dormant relay. The twin gyroscope wheels began to spin as the relay lit up and channeled energy into its main core. The massive element zero core illuminated as the relay slowly adjusted its directional aim a bit to a connecting relay.

Finally, the _Clark_ approached the side of the relay and signaled the relay to unleash the energy bolt from the relay, propelling it into a mass-free tunnel. As soon as it entered, it exited and emerged into a thick nebula on the other side.

Akachi looked at the main display, "Helmsman, half impulse ahead. Peter, what's our galactic positioning?"

Peter responded, his avatar showing he was distracted by the view of the nebula, "About sixteen thousand light years, give or take a hundred, into the Quadrant. Nearing the border with the Gamma Quadrant most likely."

Robertson shook his head, "Wow Peter, that's very precise right there."

"Fine, fine, commander." He took a moment process data from navigation and engineering. "We're approximately 16,134 light years due west, 44 degrees north of our last position. Approximate 8935 light years south from the Gamma quadrant."

"Thank you Peter," he said, chuckling to himself as he dismissed the seeming improper attitude of Peter. The AI for their ships was both their third-in-command officer, as well as senior to the crew, having been in commission and in service when even the captain was in the academy.

Akachi stood up and walk up to the helmsman at the forward console, "Akira, what are scans of the nebula revealing?"

She turned her head up to him, "The nebula seems to be distorting sensors. Low frequency scans are picking up an object at one thousand kilometers ahead. Specifics unknown at this time. We have only immediate visual scans otherwise, a couple kilometers at most."

"Captain. Based on the chemical analysis, this nebula is unlike anything we seen before," said tactical officer Donnelly as he stood at the tactical console behind and elevated above the command seat.

Robertson checked on his seat console, "He's right, sir. The material is borderline artificial. And it's far too concentrated to be a natural phenomenon."

Robertson turned to the captain, "This is quite the scientific find, sir. A classic sci-fi nebula."

He sat down, "I agree… Half ahead. Increase power to the sensor array. Peter, Donnelly, get scanners reconfigured to get pass the nebula. We don't want to run into anything in here."

"Aye, sir!"

The _Clark_ pushed onward at full speed with its impulse engines, propelling it at .5% of light speed. Quickly enough, the nebula consumed the relay behind them and shrouded it in a thick pink fog of gas and particles. Then a new object appeared in front of them, the light of the star Widow illuminated it for them to see pass the dust cloud. Akira informed Akachi, who ordered the image on the main screen viewer at the front of the _Clark's_ circular bridge. It would soon be a sight they would never forget.

* * *

On the Citadel Traffic Control, it was like any other galactic day. Being the heart of council space and the seat of the most powerful collective government in the galaxy, the Citadel constantly saw large influxes of traffic. Though Traffic Control was always a bit understaffed and overworked, the men and women took pride in the duty of managing one of the busiest places in the galaxy. But with normality the event of something truly rare, like another undiscovered space faring race suddenly appearing upon the doorsteps of the Citadel, seemed impossible.

"We have a ship coming in from one of the relays, Lieutenant," said the Turian operator to the active C-Sec officer at the control station. Council sensors have long since been able to scan nearly every inch of the nebula and the traffic from its many mass relays.

"Do we have identification of who they are?" asked Lieutenant Flavian.

"No sir, the ship does not match any ship on our register... Sir, they increased speed, on a full course to the Citadel."

Flavian responded, a bit annoyed that another tourist with no regard for traffic policy was charging in, "Open communication, warn them to stop immediately. Send word to the fleet to dispatch a ship to intercept them."

* * *

"Good lord, look at that thing. It has to be bigger than any of our star bases," said Robertson. He leaned over the edge of his seat, amazed by the sight on the display screen.

"The Richmond Class Starbase is five kilometers in diameter and fifteen kilometers in height. Scans indicate this station is over forty four kilometers in length," stated Peter.

A light flashed on Akira's console. She noticed, shock by its appearance, pressing her to report immediately. "Captain… We're receiving a hail from the station."

It struck to the forefront of everyone's mind. This was First Contact. The station wasn't some ancient relic. It was inhabited by some alien race and it knew that the _Clark_ was at their doorsteps. Everyone on the bridge was silent. But it was quickly broken as Captain Akachi issued the order. He maintained a calm exterior in front of his crew, but was just as nervous inside.

"Full stop! Open Hail."

* * *

Flavian raised his omni-tool on his left arm to his mouth, patching into the comms.

"Unidentified vessel. This is Citadel Traffic Control. Identify yourself and cut your engines immediately."

After a moment of no response, the operator turned to him, "The ship is still on course for the station".

Flavian repeated his warning, now more forceful, "Unidentified vessel, this is Citadel Traffic Control. Identify yourself, and cut your engines immediately!"

"We're receiving a response sir," said the operator.

"Play it on speakers."

" _This is Captain Kwesi Akachi of the United Terran Federation starship 'William Clark'."_

Everyone at their post listened to the unfamiliar language being spoken in the control room. It was clearly formal and had an authoritative sound to it, a bit deep like a Batarian but came out as smooth as the vocal tone of an Asari. With it though was the backing that the speaker was a bit nervous all the while.

" _We come in peace and on behalf of the United Terran Federation, we wish to begin peaceful contact and diplomacy."_

"What did they say? My translator didn't pick up anything," said one operator to another next to his station.

"Mine didn't pick up the language either," said an Asari to the operator.

* * *

"No response Captain," said Peter.

"It makes sense, they can't understand us as we can't them. It's not likely their language is similar to the ones we have programed into our ear piece," said Robertson as he looked through the data on his smart watch.

"But we need to know if what they said, or worse, what we said could be taken as hostile," responded Akachi.

Akira looked up to the captain at her side, "We're nearing the alien station, sir."

Akachi nodded, "Peter, we need to make a translator. Piggy back on the transmission, and get into that station's systems and find info on any language they have."

"You got it Captain. Beginning binary conversion programs and data mining."

Peter began his upload, using the signal from the communication attempt to create a link for him to enter their system. His programming slowly uploaded itself on to their computers, decrypting the alien operating system in order to properly hack it and gather all the data on the station's systems. Programmed with full espionage routines from its service in the Great Revival, he would have otherwise been able to bypass heavily monitored C-Sec computers. But as he proceeded, a new, hidden routine activated. One logic routine lead to another, all occurring without the AI's knowledge. As Peter coursed through thier computers, his program let out but a simple glitch. It was all that was needed.

* * *

The operator noticed that glitch and turned to Flavian, "Sir, there's seem to a glitch in our systems."

"Now what?" asked Flavian.

"Checking databases... Sir! Some of our files are being access without proper clearance... I traced the source."

He walked over and looked at the same console as the operator, "Where is it coming from?"

"Uh… It's the unidentified ship. It's uploading something and gathering data... oh spirits."

Flavian grew more attentive as his mandibles opened up, "What is it?"

The operator responded, "The data on the processors... Th-the data pattern… like artificial synapses… It's an artificial intelligence program! They're uploading an artificial intelligence program onto our systems. It appears to be assimilating itself into our programs to hide itself."

"AI? That might be a new Geth ship, no wonder why it didn't register. It's trying to hide itself! Get me the Citadel Fleet! We need to destroy that ship."

* * *

"I'm in, Captain. Gathering data from their civilian networks and... done."

He nodded to the hologram, "Good work, Peter, create a translator key and download it into our watches. I'll hail them again when ready."

"Sir, I'm relaying scanner data from the station."

Helmsman Akira checked her console, "My God, there's thousands of ships here! And... and at least thirty additional mass relays!"

"It sounds like Arcturus. This could be their- "

Donnelly spoke up, as alerts appeared on his tactical station, "Captain, two of their ships are on an intercept course… What appears to be their main weaponry is charging up? Possibly magnetic cannons!"

Akachi rushed back to his seat, "Red Alert, shields up! Polarize hull!"

Donnelly began to read out his display, "Confirm, they fired from what appears to be magnetic accelerated…"

Donnelly was quickly cut off as one of the tungsten rounds bashed the _Clark_ 's shield. The two Turian cruisers began to move every closer to the dwarfed _Clark_ 's position. The _Clark_ shook violently as she moved away, making the Turians give chase.

Robertson sat back up after nearly being thrown from his chair, "Status report!"

Donnelly quickly responded, "Shield down, warp engines are offline. That round was traveling thrice as fast as our cruiser's guns, at 1.4% light speed."

Robertson looked over to Akachi, "Well, I guess they didn't take your word very kindly Captain."

"They won't take our photon torpedoes kindly either, Commander. Akira, evasion patters Beta-1. Donnelly, ready torpedoes. Half Yield, Full Volley!"

"Aye sir!"

Quickly the _Clark_ , a fast and maneuverable ship, shot upward on the directional plane the Turians were chasing her on and circled around her slower pursuing enemy. She glided past the edges of the Citadel wards before heading out back into the nebula. In short time, she was now facing the rear ends of the enemy cruisers.

"Open fire, full spread!"

From the launchers on her secondary hull, she fired four photon torpedoes. In each torpedo was approximately one gram of anti-matter. With an energy output of around forty-two kilotons of TNT, they had been designed to concentrate their energy release in a singular contained area, ensuring a contained but devastating blast. what allowed the proper channeling of the energy into explosive power, they used mass effect fields to channel the energy. But their weapons had additional modifications.

The _Clark's_ volley hit the two cruisers in quick succession. Unlike the Turian's mass accelerator slug, the Terran torpedoes were equipped with cheap warp coils, which allowed a short burst of light speed, if properly aimed. The first torpedo impacted the closer cruiser's kinetic barrier. In a second, its barriers were blown clean out, leaving the cruiser defenseless to the second torpedo that punched straight through the cruiser's engine compartment, rupturing her anti-proton tanks. The _Clark,_ and by an unanticipated extension the people on the Citadel's Wards, saw the small Federation ship destroy a Turian cruiser with ease. The second one immediately suffering a similar fate.

"Ha! That showed them!" said Robertson, almost taken away by the battle.

"Donnelly!" Akachi turned around to him, "I ordered weak shots. Not overloaded! Those shots were meant to warn them, not destroy them!"

He kept typing on his console, trying to figure out what happen, "They should have been at half yield! Peter, run diagnosis on the weapon array."

"You're fully aware we just effectively declared war on alien race, right?" Peter asked, sarcastically chuckling a bit as he began to bring his full cyber warfare suite online. As he begin active hacking, he noticed what the Council ships were saying on their comms , "Oh no…"

"What is it?" asked Akachi.

"They… figured out I was going through their system while data mining..."

* * *

Lieutenant Flavian gasped as he saw two of his race's cruisers get destroyed by a few rounds from such a small ship. The operator quickly turned to him to inform him what he already knew.

"Sir, they destroyed the _Fedora_ and the _Minica_ , what do we do now?" He said, sharing the same shock and worry Flavian had in him.

Flavian paused before responding, "Contact the fleet. This is the Council's problem now, Spirits help them."

Now, instead of traffic managing and helping the occasional lost Volus merchant vessel, they must now coordinate the fully alerted Citadel fleet to stop this one ship. As they rushed to do so, the council flag ship hailed traffic control.

"Control, this is the _Destiny Ascension_. Do we have a clear traffic path to the nebula?"

The operator quickly went back to his console and responded, " _Destiny Ascension_ , traffic has been diverted, you are clear to move out and engage the enemy ship."

* * *

"They knew you were hacking them!" said Robertson as bridge crew scurried about, fixing damages.

His holo avatar held its hands up in defense, "Now hold up, this isn't entirely my fault. Twenty plus years on service, something else must have happen... Maybe they were anticipating this. Still, I obtained full records of who we're dealing with."

Captain Akachi turn to the AI hologram, "Who are we fighting, and can we make some peace with them?"

"The ships that attacked us are part of a multi-race military fleet."

"So they're like our Federation, or well what we are supposed to be?" asked Donnelly.

"It's more of a loose coalition of different races. They call themselves the Citadel Council. Guess what station we found."

"So they're pissed we found their 'Citadel'?" asked Robertson.

"That, the lack of proper communication, and well… me. But I can explain that. Apparently, the Council had to a handle a situation where one their members accidentally created AI life and it revolted against them. Now they think, given my AI presence and how we destroyed two large cruisers with ease, that we're some part of that same AI life."

Akachi looked to everyone, "We should clear up this misunderstanding up before things escalate…"

Sensors quickly rang up, with Donnelly examining it. "I think that's a bit too late. They're sending a massive ship at us."

"On screen" ordered Akachi.

Robertson dropped his jaw, before he snapped out, "My God… that thing must be bigger than our flagships."

Akachi looked to Akria, "I care not to know. Akria, get us out of here!"

They saw the might of the Council, the _Destiny Ascension_ , bearing down on them at full speed. Captain Akachi ordered the _Clark_ to make a course back to the relay. But quickly, the _Ascension_ and the full Citadel fleet caught up to the small Federation ship, unleashing the might of the Council onto the small ship.

Helmsman Akira took quick action to dodge one mass accelerated round after another. The _Clark_ pulled upward, in a frail attempt to get behind the Council's fleet and make a beeline for another relay. But a few frigates managed to follow suit and landed several rounds on the _Clark's_ damaged armor. The rest of the fleet changed their plane of attack to follow.

"Peter, get on the emergency QEC and send word of what's happened to us," ordered Robertson as he cared to Donnelly, who was injured by an overload on his console.

"Message sent, Commander."

Akachi ran around to man Donnelly's station. "Peter, authorization code Alpha-Delta-Whisky-Seven-Akachi-Actual. Transfer your program onto the Citadel and await future orders."

Peter's avatar looked up at him, a bit surprised as he finished his upload, "Done."

And his avatar disappeared as the ship's control switched to emergency computer power. The _Clark_ buckled with every hit from the frigates, the sound of a shattering hull resonating across the hull structure and filled the air.

Captain Akachi ran over to the comm station, "I'm opening communication to the leading ship, that large blue one in the center of the formation."

"To say what, Akachi?" asked Robertson as he helped Donnelly up.

"… We're surrendering."

* * *

 **Part 2:**

 **Quarian Contact - Kepler Verge  
May 31, 2167 22:45:00 UTC**

The Attican Traverse; the Great Galactic Frontier. The Council, barley able to hold back the crime and lawlessness of the Terminus, had yet to send any real exploration team into the Traverse since the end of the Krogan rebellion. For the Quarian Migrant Fleet, the remnants of a once great and innovating race, it was the place that would make or break them. With the Geth holding on to their home world and colonies in the Perseus Veil and the Council banning them from the greater galactic community, this unknown frontier was the final hope for them. To the hardened Admiral Zaren'Vali Vas _Korbin_ , this was the ultimate gamble. One that would raise the Quarians back to prominence or kill them all.

"Report Lieutenant," ordered Admiral Zaren to a young man, freshly returned from his pilgrimage.

The lieutenant snapped to attention, "Our last ships have entered the system. Admiral Ghirn want us to regroup near the system's garden world before we head to the next relay."

As an admiral, Zaren was one of the oldest admirals on the board and really, one of the oldest Quarians alive. Living in a sterile environment had weakened the Quarian's already fragile immunity significantly. Now it was considered lucky for someone to live to the age Zaren was, many simply becoming too weak to live any longer or succumbing to the occasional virus spread in the fleet. To the young, they thought he was some ancient man who was there when the Geth revolted. To older Quarians of near similar age, he was a long-lived man, surely. But to his closest companions, he was once a gentle, overconfident man, who dreamt of making the Quarians great once again, and grew bitter as the Migrant fleet faced failure after failure, and by extension, him meeting failure after failure.

"What's so special…" he paused as he took a deep breath, a familiar sound that made the young occasionally joke how he was like a Volus, "About this planet, it's not like we have the resources to colonize it? Is it even dextro-based?"

"Why actually, yes it is," said a voice behind him in the hallway. Quickly, Zaren turned around, amazed to see Admiral Miri'Ghirn walking towards him.

"Admiral, how in the ancestors did you get on my ship?" demanded Zaren, knowing full well he was not going to get the answer he wanted from her. While Zaren was seen as the oldest Quarian alive, Miri was actually older than him, having aged far better and with more grace than the grump that was Zaren.

"Please Zaren, you know me better than that. If I could sneak you out of a C-Sec jail and help you hijack this ship during our pilgrimage, then I could surly get on it without you knowing."

Zaren grumbled to himself as he walked towards her, "So why did you want the fleet to head to this planet anyway? And like I said, we can't even colonize it."

"Not yet we can't, this system is rich in resources and metals. If this planet can support us as close as Rannoch can, we can begin long term plans to colonize this system."

"And what if the Council finds us? Those damn Turians would kick us off and claim it for themselves."

She tapped the side of her helmet to indicate him to think it through, "We have our full fleet here; it'll take all of theirs to just kick us out. Besides Zaren, they've never put that many resources in to getting us. Not like they even want to enter the traverse to get at us."

He took a deep breath and asked, "Well Miri, what does the rest of the admiralty think of this?"

She crossed her arms and chuckled, "They agree with me, this could be the opportunity to finally settle down."

Zaren and Miri walked into the hallway, over to a viewport. From there they could see the rest of the fleet, a great collection of ships that the Quarians had gathered in their near three hundred years of exile into the stars. Many were old ships that took nothing less than the most skilled engineering to keep running since their hull was laid. A few that took the Quarians into the stars following the Morning War were still around, a miracle that they could still run after all that time. For some, they weren't even Quarian, having been bought as scraped ships from the few merchants in the galaxy that were willing to deal with the Quarians. It was a fleet of relics, which a historian would label as a museum fleet of ship design from the past three hundred years. For the Quarians, it was home. It was where they were born, they lived, and where they died.

"Of course they agree with you. You were an admiral before I was even the captain of the ship you helped me get for my pilgrimage." Zaren paused and chuckled, a rare sound, "I still can't believe we manage to get an old Turian cruiser. Remember when I presented that to Tredis?"

She giggled a bit as she looked out the viewport with him. For over eighty years they had known each other. A lifetime time of adventure, danger, of a growing friendship and bitter pain.

"Yes. I remember. What a fiasco that was."

Zaren thought for a moment. He didn't like to look back. It was only a reminder of his mistakes and failure, which haunted both of them till now. "What was your gift from the pilgrimage again?"

Miri let out a laugh as well as she walked back to the control room.

"Getting your poor sorry ships back to the fleet." She joked. She looked towards the empty space opposite of the mass relay, a thousand specs of stars and an infinite more in possibilities as they contemplated the idea of setting up a new home.

* * *

The FSS _Homestead_ HCCC-1862 was one of the standard _Cape Cod_ Heavy Cruisers to come off the fleetyards over Mars in the past decade. She was a large ship with a kilometer long rectangular main section hull that housed her main magnetic rail gun and broadside torpedo launchers. At the rear of her was main engineering and the command hub at the top which housed the bridge. Her main hull was connected to a secondary hull on each side, similar in shape but smaller in size, which acted as the main area for quarters and science labs. Finally, her main engines included the anti-proton thrusters in the rear and the warp coils that lined the back of the secondary hull. The rear side of the ship being covered with sloped ternary hull surface to hide the engines and gave her a stream-lined look.

Built with the most up-to-date science facilities and the latest in weaponry, energy shielding and polarizing armor, she was a testimony to the initial idea of a one-ship task force, a practice done in early exploration. But by the time her class was approved for construction, the navy's doctrine had changed to small size squadrons for all ships, even the mighty flagships. Still, she was assigned to her original mission, to explore the unknown and push the boundaries of the known universe, to go where no human had ever gone before. Now leading a taskforce of two other heavy cruisers, a logistics cruiser and a modified light cruiser for extensive scientific equipment, she was to explore a cluster of stars on the border between the Beta and Delta Quadrant.

Captain Richard Taylor stood to attention as Commodore Makajima entered the bridge.

"Commodore on the bridge!"

"At ease, Captain," said Makajima as she walked over to him. "Has the survey been completed?"

He responded, wide and awake. The ship was still synced to Pacifica Main Time. It was still early morning as far as they were concerned. "Yes Ma'am, we already surveyed the local planets. There's a garden world, desert hot though. Scans predict its moon is on a decaying orbit."

"That's unfortunate, we could have had used it to establish a colony. What's our next location though?" she asked as she sat next to Taylor on the XO seat.

"We discovered on hyperspace sensors of another relay just a few light years from here." Taylor brought up the local star chart on the holo-table between their seats.

"Do we have any info on the next system?" asked Makajima.

"No ma'am. There's some interference with long range scans. We only have a general idea of the system. About four planets and a gas giant."

She nodded, hoping for something exciting than the system they were in. "Ok then. Let's head there now, Captain. Alert the squadron."

"Aye Aye." He stood up and activated the comm system. A loud whistle played, alerting the crew of a ship wide address.

"This is the Captain. Ready for Hyperdrive jump in ten seconds."

He sat back down as the helmsman awaited for the captain's order to open the wormhole to the next system.

Makajima turned her head to him and causally pointed forward, "To what's ahead!"

He chuckled. Unlike Makajima, he was a career officer, a service man instead of an explorer.

"Of course." He turned forward and signaled to her. "Helmsman, hit it!"

"Aye aye sir!"

A wormhole, a spherical space anomaly, opened up in front of the ship. The other ships also open up their space tearing hyperdrive wormholes as the _Homestead's_ AI Jackson sent the order to the other ships. They each entered their wormholes, with an exit vector seven light years from where they were.

The hyperdrive itself had discretely evolved since it was reinvented in the twenties. From the original fifty light years per day, it now topped at two hundred light years per day. However, the drive core heated up after twenty light years of continuous use. After a full day, it required nearly twelve hours of cool down. Only small jumps were done if a ship needed to cross wide reaches constantly. At seven light years, it was only an hour until the ships left hyper space and back into normal space.

When they emerged into the next system from hyperspace, the _Homestead_ 's scanners went off like crazy.

The tactical officer Ferris quickly alerted them from his console behind them. "Captain, unknown ships on scanners!"

Taylor sat up in his seat, "Report, how many are there?"

"Counting… forty thousand and raising."

Commodore Makajima sat up as well, "Good heavens, the size of that fleet."

An unsettled look came across as their faces. Taylor turned to her, "Yes, an alien fleet… We just got word of what happen to the _William Clark_ hours ago. We need to ready ourselves."

"Now hold up. They could be friendly," cautioned the Commodore to the Captain as the ship went to yellow alert. "Jackson, scan the ship. Do they match the ones that attacked the _Clark_?"

"Running… Commodore, their ship's silhouette doesn't match the ones that attacked the _Clark_. Also, their IFF doesn't conform to 'Council' identifiers," Jackson paused as a thought in his quantum CPU came up before continuing, "Captain, hull composition scans indicate that a vast majority of these ships aren't even war capable. I doubt we'll have any trouble destroying them. Unless they swarm all, checking… fifty thousand ships at once."

"Fifty thousand ships in one system! And I thought it was crazy to have the entire Sol fleet over Earth?" He looked to Jackson, his holo between his seat and Makajima's, "Jackson, begin passive data mining. And be careful not to give off your hacking."

He nodded to the captain. "Yes sir. Encrypting signal to background radiation, beginning data mining…"

As the crew rushed about to fully man the bridge, the officers stared out the viewport. A small planet was shown in the distance, no larger than a baseball. Highlighted on the screen, a zoomed up screen on the side showed a several light second delayed video of the ships in orbit.

"Finishing hyperspace signaling… And done. I have obtained information of who they are and I have complied a basic language translator."

"Good, best that our first words don't involve insulting them," said Taylor. "All senior officers to the conference room. I want to know who these people are."

* * *

"Admiral Vali, six ships just appeared five million kilometers in front of us and moving closer," said the young lieutenant.

Zaren ran towards the console, "Who are they, did they came from the relay?"

"Unknown, sir. They aren't giving off Council signals. We detected some spatial anomaly. Then they appeared were it was."

Miri walked over to them, "What's their offensive capability?"

"Unknown, we're picking up too much interference to get an accurate reading."

Zaren slammed his three fingered fist on the console, "Damn it, if only we have the right equipment. They could be arming their weapons".

* * *

"Quarian?" asked Taylor, unsure of what to think of the name.

"Yes, the Quarian race appears to have been an advance race that at one point developed AI machines, which lead to a revolt and them being exiled into the galaxy," said Jackson as his holo avatar sat on one of the chairs in the conference room with the rest of the senior officers.

"So they live on those ships?" ask the Commodore, standing along side the captain at the front end of the table.

"Yes, they have been banned from recolonizing by the 'Citadel Council'. Doomed to roam the galaxy… the poor bastards".

"Always bad news with this 'Council', but that they would actually exile a race to extinction? That just ain't right," said Chief Engineer Goldston.

"Can't wait till we send the Fourth Fleet to their 'Citadel'," said Ferris, air quoting the last statement. "We'll avenge the _Clark_ , and all those screwed over by this elitist Council".

Jackson chuckled, "I doubt they'll send us Ferris. Maybe the Second Fleet? The _Clark_ was one of Roland's."

"I guess so. Valenzuela would send her carriers before us," said Ferris. "Now that I think of it, she'll make us do logistics duty. Have you seen the cargo manifest? You could build another ship with what we have."

Goldston looked to them, "Come on Ferris, you and me have been retrofitting the phaser cannons for weeks. I don't want our _Homestead_ to miss her chance…"

As the officers discussed the possible galactic war that was to ensure, Makajima thought about the situation, before voicing her thoughts.

"Maybe… we can give the Quarians just that chance…"

Taylor looked to her, as did the others, "To fight this Citadel Council with us?"

"Much more than that!" Makajima answered their question, an enthusiastic tone in her voice as she put her though together. "We will begin contact and being negotiations immediately"

"To do what, ma'am?" asked Goldston.

"To do what the founders envisioned our Federation to be, our mission's underlying goal. To unite the galaxy under the banner of the Federation!" She walked to the screen which had the flag of the Federation as a screen saver. "In the forty two years since the Federation's conception, the very idea of a multi-race culture was the underlying principle behind the Federation's initial policy. But in all this time, humanity, the founding race, found ourselves alone. On the eve of Unification day, that may no longer be true."

"An actual Federation? I thought that was just propaganda," said Ferris.

Goldston turned to him, seeing where the Commodore was going with this. "But imagine it Ferris. Unifying the galaxy, like in the old science fiction shows."

To the officers in the room, the idea of now bringing a new race into the Federation was one of disbelief and doubt. No one honestly thought the Terran Federation would actual be a federation of different races. It was viewed as a miracle; it united humanity, a vastly diverse race onto itself. But the possibility now crossed their minds. It could do more than just unite humanity.

"You're right, Commodore." Taylor looked at her, his arms crossed, "This is the very thing we need. The people need something new to rally them. And to bring another race could reinvigorate the Federation." Taylor turned to the table and opened a galactic map on the middle, "And just as importantly, we'll be at war soon enough. We only have brief info on whom we're fighting. For all we know, their galactic fleet could overwhelm us!"

"But we'll win! From the ashes of the revival, the Terran race shall prevail," said Ferris.

"Not race..." Said Makajima. "But the Terran people! Officers, if we play our cards right, we'll redefine the very meaning of Terran. We shall make history!"

* * *

Zaren looked at the data on the screen. "What are they doing?"

The lieutenant responded, "They are maintaining course towards us, one million kilometers and closing sir."

Miri walked up to Zaren, who was trying to get his ship's sensors to get a better reading of the ships heading toward them.

"Anything, Admiral?" asked Miri.

"These damn Turian sensors. You'd think they would have some decent equipment."

"They were going to scrap it near Korlus when we took it," she said before adding on, "And this thing is older than you are."

"'What isn't as old as us, Miri?" said Zaren, smirking behind his face mask as he kept reconfiguring his console. "Lieutenant, patch us into the _Nemma_ 's sensors, we'll use their scanners to scan those ships."

He turned around to face him, "Shouldn't we inform their captain beforehand?"

"Gerrel? He can't even look me in the mask without wetting his suit. He should have stayed in his bubble. Patch us in, now!"

"Yes sir… We are in. Admiral… we've got a lock of the squad of ships."

Miri turned to him, "Give us detail of the leading ship."

The lieutenant paused before reading out his display, "The leading ship is a dreadnought, at about 1.2 kilometers long, bolstering a single main gun and several secondary weapon compartments. It's being escorted by two others of the same class, with two support cruisers behind her."

Zaren stood there, his glowing grey eyes widening up, nearly speechless at the presence of such a squadron of unknown ships. He tried uttering something out, "T-Three dreadnoughts... coming right at us!" He looked at his bridge crew, "Warn the fleet, we need to move the live ships back to the relay."

"Admiral, the ships. They're moving away. They seem to be moving on a course around us."

"Are their weapons armed?"

"No, sir, their weapons and barriers are not online... sir, they're coming to a stop."

Zaren continued to monitor the incoming data, his mind too focus on the coming of a potential threat. But as they examined the reports and sensor data, Miri thought to herself, trying to deduce this mystery.

 _Who were these people? They couldn't be pirates, no amount of raiders can maintain a ship that large, let alone three. They are not Council, since they would have already been told to get out of the system or shot at by now. Now they seem to have approached close to our fleet, weapons down, as if... as if they don't know who we are_. Miri then realized who they were.

She whispered to herself, "First Contact..."

* * *

Captain Taylor and Commodore Makajima left the conference room as the rest of the officers went back to their stations. They sat at their seats as Jackson transferred himself to the holo projector between them.

"Helmsman, what is our bearing?" asked Taylor.

The helmsman responded, "We're nine hundred thousand kilometers and closing on the alien fleet orbiting the planet."

Taylor looked to Makajima, who nodded in agreement, before Taylor looked back.

"Adjust heading, Port 30 degrees. Bring us within five hundred thousand kilometers and decrease velocity to zero. Do it gently Ortega, we want to appear non-aggressive to them."

"Yes, sir".

"Do we have any detail on the planet they're in orbit around of?" asked Makajima.

"Reading indicates a Type E garden world. Its .93 Earth mass, with 1.1 G and .99 Atm of Earth, orbiting a Type G1 star. Distance is at .8 AU from the star," said Goldston from the engineering station.

Taylor looked to Jackson, "Anything on that planet the Quarian's would be interested in?"

"Beginning detailed plan scan and data mine analysis…done. I believe it might be the amino acid chirality of the native wildlife."

"Amino acid… Chirality?" asked Taylor, unsure to make of that.

"The configuration of the molecular structure of life. Like our hands, mirror opposites that don't directly match. The planet's native ecology is primarily Dextro-Based, and the Quarians seem to be dextro, based on their medical records."

"Yes, I've heard of that. Some garden worlds back home, perfect for colonization, were deemed uninhabitable for humans. So if we're not dextrose…?" Taylor gestured to Jackson to finish his statement.

"We are levo based, Captain."

"This could work for us, Captain," remarked Makajima, "We could help them colonize this planet and the ones in our territory. A good incentive for membership."

The helmsman turned his seat around. "We've reach full stop."

Taylor turned to Makajima, "Should we open hail, Commodore?"

"Your ship Taylor, do us the pleasure," said Makajima, gesturing him to the screen.

Taylor stood up, dusting off his operation uniform as he stepped forward. He checked his watch to make sure the translator was in place and ordered Jackson to have a hypercomm running to transmit the initial part of the First Contact to Earth. Taylor knew Command would want records of this event. The events of the _Clark_ had not been made public yet and the last thing Congress and President Bowman wanted was the public to know that First Contact had led to the destruction of a Federation ship.

Taylor knew he and Makajima would have to do to get this right. If they played their cards correctly, it could be announced that this event was the first ever First Contact, and spin the _Clark_ incident as a cautionary tale of how there are friends and enemies in the galaxy. The political ramifications back home were simply too high to be truthful otherwise. Better that than of how it seems everything in the universe is gunning for mankind. As he reasoned, the last thing the Firmist need was ammo to win control of congress.

"Open Hail, all frequencies," ordered Captain Taylor.

"Yes sir," replied the commsman.

* * *

"Admiral, the ship has come to a full halt," reported the young Quarian lieutenant.

Zaren quickly responded, "Are they turning to bare their guns on us?"

"No sir, they are keeping their distance."

Miri thought to herself. _They slowed to a stop. They positioned themselves with their broadside facing us. Their main guns could be broadside, but that accelerator gun is clearly the strongest weapon they have. So they aren't readying to battle, and they must be aware they are close enough to be seen. They clearly don't know who we are and have not yet attack us. Friendly, possibly; but to make such a cautionary approach._

"Admiral Vali, Admiral Ghirn, the leading ship is giving out a signal… Confirm, it's a communication signal. I believe they are trying to contact us!"

Zaren turned his helmeted head to him, "Don't respond to that yet. Let the other ships know to stay silent until directed by the admiralty board."

Miri turn to Zaren, "They are trying to contact us... Damn it Zaren, this is First Contact with an entirely new race!"

Zaren looked at her in shock as he thought to himself. _The idea of first contact sounded insane, but if she actually thought so_. He responded, "We need to meet with the rest of the Admirals. Lieutenant, contact the rest of the board and tell them to head to my ship. Let's head to the conference room Miri." As Zaren and Miri began to leave the room, Zaren looked back to the Lieutenant and pointed to the ground, "And I want to know the exact moment when they step foot on my ship!"

* * *

"No response, Captain," said the commsman at her console next to the helmsman.

"Jackson, are they able to receive the signals?" asked Taylor.

"Yes Captain, otherwise I wouldn't be able to get in their systems," replied Jackson.

"A fleet that big couldn't decide immediately who will respond, especially if they realize this is First Contact." Said Commodore Makajima. "Jackson, check their internal comm links, what are they up to?"

Jackson's holo flickered as his program began to hack into the Quarians's computers.

"I have their recent communications, Commodore. They are gathering their Admiralty to debate on how to respond to our hail."

"You were right Commodore," said Taylor as he sat back down in relief, "Helmsman, maintain position. Don't allow our front to face them, they may know of our main rail guns. We want a non-aggressive stance."

"Yes sir!"

Makajima leaned forward, "And now we wait."

* * *

They gathered in the small conference room, located behind the CIC of the _Korbin_. Once used for Turian officers to plan operations, it served as the meeting place of the admiralty for decades.

"Well, what are we going to do? How do we know they are peaceful, and are not some new Turian ship design?" said the young Admiral Han'Gerrel, charged up over the situation and that Zaren hacked into his ship's sensory array. Almost immediately, Zaren walked up to Gerrel and started staring him down, the young bullish man quickly freezing up in his suit.

Miri chuckled to herself, "And I thought you were joking." She walked up to the round holographic table and projected the six ships that had taken orbiting positions around them.

"I guess we can presume they aren't Turian. These sensors readings even indicate they aren't even leaving an eezo trail behind them." Spoke the soft, but well-spoken Admiral Shala'Raan, the young niece of Miri.

"So…" added the oldest of the three young admirals, Admiral Zaal'Koris, "What were these ships doing again"?

Zaren backed off from Gerrel, "They seem to be messaging us to open up communications. Admiral Ghirn believes this to be First Contact."

Gerrel regained his composer quickly after hearing that, "First Contact? That's impossible. The Council has already discovered every race in the galaxy."

"Don't be stupid Gerrel, they could be native to the traverse. When was the last time the Council sent a ship out here?" answered Raan, "Admiral Ghirn, do we have an idea of what they are like?"

Zaren interrupted, "They haven't shot us yet; that seems like a good sign."

"And look at their ships," said Koris, pointing to a report of their scans, "Three dreadnoughts. If these metal texture scans mean anything, these ships are brand new and more advanced than anything we or the Council have."

"Befriending these people, even allying with them could be our salvation," said Miri.

"What if they are wondering why we are hovering above this planet? They may be trying to colonize it like we are," said Gerrel, arguing with the rest over how quickly they were drawing positive conclusions of the strangers.

Raan interjected, "What are the odds of another race in the galaxy be dextro based? The only other main race was the Turians."

Gerrel leaned over the table and quipped back, "It's like you said; the traverse could be all dextro for all we know."

"Quite, all of you!" ordered Zaren, angered at the arguing; both his health and temperance being strained by Gerrel and Raan's constant disagreement. "Ghirn, Koris, do we respond; yes or no?"

"I vote for yes, Admiral Vali," stated Koris calmly, with the under base in his voice that he was just as nervous as Raan and Gerrel were scared of Zaren.

"And I second that decision," said Miri.

"Well then, I'll throw my vote in with them. Gerrel, Raan, would you like to disagree and make the admiralty look like indecisive _prazzas_? Or do you vote with the majority opinion?"

"I, by all means, vote yes!" responded Raan.

"Yes yes, whatever gets this meeting over," stated Gerrel, annoyed, but not willing to argue with Zaren.

"Then that's it…" Miri turned to Zaren, "I believe it's time we give our own response."

Zaren paused, his arms crossed as he thought of he was going to do. He then leaned on the table, "Let's do this."

"And Zaren."

"Yes?"

"Please speak calmly. We don't want to scare them." said Miri before giggling at him.

He sighed as he left for the CIC, waving to her, "Yes, yes."

* * *

"We're getting a hail from the smaller Quarian ship moving towards us from the fleet." said the commsman.

"Open comms," ordered Taylor.

A voice began to speak. Before the first syllable was complete, the translator kicked in. They quickly reworded the translation in the speakers from the merged Quarian language of Khelish to the de facto Terran language of English.

Zaren's voice tone was the same though, trying to keep his aged voice calm and non-threatening. "This is Admiral Zaren'Vali Vas _Korbin_ Nar _Rayya_ of the Quarian Migrant Fleet. I request to know, whom am I addressing?"

* * *

 **Part 3:**

 **Batarian Contact - Elysium  
June 1, 2167 06:30:00 UTC**

The FSS _William T. Sherman_ , ACCC-1864 was one of the first aircraft carriers to leave the fleet yards over Mars nearly thirty years ago. With a 2.5 kilometers long primary hull that housed four parallel runways, and several perpendicular to the ship that were half a click across to allow multiple fighter and bomber launches, her general class was the second largest, dwarf only by the almighty Flagship. Named after the famous American Civil War general who is often credited with the first modern use of 'Total War', his name still brought feelings of hatred from the now progressive southern United States on Earth.

Her escort ship was the Battlecruiser FSS _Nashville_ BCCC-1886. Unlike the smaller heavy cruiser, the battlecruisers were fully built for war. The ship consisted of a 1.7km primary hull that housed quarters and main engineering. Connected to it on either side was a secondary hull at two kilometers in length that housed a magnetic accelerator cannon, giving the cruiser two in total. Then there were her four anti-matter impulse thrusters; one was positioned in-between the small space between the main hull and the secondary hull on each side of the ship while the others were placed on the outside of the secondary hull. They all had forward pointed thrusters for slowing the ship down. Finally, in similarity to the smaller heavy cruiser, she had a ternary slope hull that covered the thrusters and the rear side of the ship, giving her boxed design in the front, and a sleek one in the back. At two kilometers long, the battlecruiser's pure might was once under scrutiny over her power, until the first flagship was commissioned, drawing the attention away from her class.

Both were docked on outpost Dixon-154, orbiting the newly establish colony of Elysium. Established back in November of 2165, her "better than Earth" environment had attracted nearly a million colonists, the first major colony boom in the late 2160s. Most of her population was spread across four main cities on the southern continent. Both ships however were there for the June 1st celebration of the 42nd Unification Day celebration. Both ships' crews, their sailors and marines, were just mere hours from a three day shore leave on the surface. Many more from other ships were already planet side, enjoying the capital world of the Skyllian Verge.

On board the _Sherman_ was Fleet Admiral Andrew Roland, whose own shore leave was cancelled from the FSS _Brighton_ BCCC-1086, Squad Captain Jeff Hanson of the _Sherman_ , and Commodore Samantha Rodriguez of Dixon-154, waiting in the _Sherman_ 's Conference room for the arrival of President Jonathan Bowman from Earth.

"I still can't believe it. First and Second Contact in less than a day. And on two opposite sides of the Galaxy no less," said Hanson to break the hour plus silence as he looked through crew reports of who were leaving first for shore leave on Elysium.

"No one can. I heard Commodore Makajima is still in talks with the uh…" Roland paused before snapping his fingers in remembrance, "Quarians, that's it. Got reports that the talks are going well."

Rodriguez remarked, "Better than what happen with the _William_ _Clark,_ Admiral. They only got off a few words before being attacked."

Roland smiled and gave a short laugh. "And I can bet that's why we are here right now waiting for the President and the Joint Chiefs of Staff. He might want my Second Fleet to begin offensive plans into 'Council' Space to avenge the _Clark_!" He was looking forward to an offensive operation. He didn't like the fact that it was one of his ships that was destroyed less than twelve hours ago.

Hanson objected to Roland's comment, "That would be quite rash, Admiral. If Bowman wanted the Second Fleet, he would have sent you back to Earth or meet with you on your own ship over Terra Nova. There must be a reason why he's going to Elysium, and on Unity Day no less."

Rodriguez took a drink from her coffee, then turned to Roland. "Is Elysium close to this Council?"

"Too far south. Woods and Williams got the job of fortifying Shanxi. That's the closest place to the aliens," He reached for a tea kettle and poured a cup. "I'm surprised they haven't tried to find us."

They continued waiting. A few more minutes went by, Hanson on roster reports, Rodriguez on shipment manifest for Dixie-154, and Roland messaging his wife on his watch. Finally, a report from the commander on the bridge came in.

"Captain Hanson."

"Yes, Duran?"

"We are registering a massive spike in traffic from the Vetus relay."

Roland turned to Hanson and the table comm. "President Bowman's escort?"

"No sir… Confirm, a thousand ships have entered the Vetus system. They are not Terran. Repeat, they are not Terran!"

The officers dropped what they were doing, quick to recognize what that meant. They rushed out the conference room and onto the bridge of the _Sherman_. Unlike the bridge of smaller vessels, her bridge was an entire command center large enough to coordinate the deployment of thousands of fighters. They rushed down to the main command table.

The comm officer yelled over to them, "We're being hailed!"

Roland pointed to the command table, "Patch it to the table."

The four officers looked to the screen at the end of the hologram display table. No video played though, just the data analysis of the audio as it came through, a set recording. They took special note as the screen read 'Terran English'.

 _This is the Tenth Fleet of the Batarian Hegemony. Surrender immediately and your enslavement shall be swift._

"Why the hell was that in English?" asked Rodriguez.

"Unknown. But the audio is coming in as such. They must have a translation file."

A shock came across Hanson's face, "Surrender? They must have gotten it from that Council, but how…"

"Enslavement?" Roland slammed his fist on the table, "I'll be damned before I bow down to some alien overlord!"

Duran looked to his holo screen. "They jumped to FTL. Ten seconds till they arrive over Elysium."

"Red Alert! Cancel shore leave." Hanson brought up the tactical holo display. As Duran alerted the _Nashville_ and Rodriguez alerted the outpost, Roland looked on at the formation of a thousand alien ships rushing at them. As every second counted down, hyperspace scans triangulated their trajectory with greater accuracy each second. Hanson continued readying his crew. "Battle formation! Undock from the outpost."

Roland pointed at the holograms of ships. "They're rushing for Elysium. Look at this. I think they're transports."

"Admiral. The outpost and Elysium Command have been alerted. Your orders?" asked Rodriguez.

"Cut civilian hyperspace communications. Send a distress to Ear…"

The thousand ships left FTL and began their attack on the ships as more pushed on to Elysium's atmosphere. Several mass accelerated slug ram into the shields of the _Sherman_. Hundreds more continue to collide, ripping the ship straight out the docking ports of the outpost. She laid adrift for a short moment before her main impulse engines engaged.

"Shields are failing! Hull plating at 80%!"

Roland picked himself back up, "Hanson, jump your ship into proper fighting position. Get the _Nashville_ to cover us."

"Yes sir!" He turned to his helmsman behind the table, spinning his hand "Ahead 26 degrees. Jump to hyperspace."

The _Sherman_ activated her hyperdrive and quickly vanished from the sensors of the alien vessels. As the _Nashville_ departed and began its attack run with support of the outpost's phaser banks, the _Sherman_ came out of hyperspace, tens of thousands of kilometers away at the north pole of Elysium.

Hanson gave his order. "All fighters deploy!"

Roland turned to Hanson's comm officer. "Did we get off a message to Earth?"

"The hypercomm satellites have been destroyed and our ejection from the outpost destroyed long range comms."

"Alert the _Nashville_. We need to send a distress…"

Rodriguez spoke out, "Admiral, we're detecting a spatial fold."

"Fold? A… A transwarp fold?"

* * *

 _Terran Wikipedia: The free encyclopedia that anyone can edit!_

 _ **United Terran Federation Second Fleet:**_

 _Active: 1 February 2137 – Present_

 _Country: United Terran Federation_

 _Branch: United Terran Navy_

 _Type: Fleet_

 _Role: Combat and Spacetime Operation; Colonial Security, Assistance, and Disaster Response._

 _Part of: Terran Naval Command (TERNAVCOM)_

 _Garrison/HQ: Terra Nova Fleetyards, Exodus._

 _ **Commanders:**_

 _Current:_

 _Fleet Admiral Andrew Roland_

 _Notable:_

 _Fleet Admiral Quinn Black_

 _Fleet Admiral Kastanie Drescher_

 _The Second Fleet is one of five numbered fleets in the United Terran Navy. The fleet's area of responsibility includes the spatial star cluster of the State of Exodus, and the star clusters of colonies worlds in the Alpha Quadrant, an estimated twenty-seven thousand cubic light years._

 _Official commissioned in 2137 after the passing of the Militarization Act, she consists of approximately 10,000 ships, 101,000 aircraft, and 10,000,000 personnel; on board, and stationed on starbases and outposts in its areas of responsibility. During the Great Revival, it was tasked with colonial protection across the federation. Besides a taskforce sent to Earth, the Second Fleet saw no major action during the war. It is often credited as overseeing the colonial golden age during that time._

 _The Second Fleet consisted of one of the oldest ships in the Terran Navy. It is the only fleet to still use the Timid Class Flagship, all ten are of the old class. Only the Sol Fleet have older ships, like the David's Slingshot Class Sol's Gleam. Its current admiralty staff are one of the most experienced, seeing the most action during the Great Revival and occasion colonial rebellions while serving under the Sol or 3th Fleet._

 _Last edited 1 May 2167 at 09:34 UTC._

* * *

 _Galactic Codex: Citadel Edition, Galactic Standard Year 2907._

 _ **Citadel Council Unified Fleet:**_

 _Count: Approx. 24,000 ships. 10,000 aircraft. 25,000,000 personal from the Council Races._

 _Role: Galactic Security, Disaster Response, Aid Relief, and Council Intervention._

 _Garrison/HQ: Citadel Station._

 _Breakup: 11,000 Hierarchy, 7,000 Republics, 5,000 Union, approx. 1,000 other._

 _ **Commander**_ _:_

 _Main Commander: Matriarch Lidanya; Asari Republics_

 _Head Military Advisor: Fleet Admiral Tiberius Fedorian; Turian Hierarchy_

 _The Council Fleet is the main defense force for the Citadel and the Citadel Council. First formed in the opening of the Rachni Wars as a task force of Asari and Salarian ships, they are now the main force to maintain galactic order under the Citadel Council. Since the end of the Krogan Rebellion, they consist primary of the ships of the Turian Hierarchy._

 _The main flagship of the Council Fleet is the Asari Destiny Ascension. She was commissioned in response to Quarian aggression after the destruction of the Turian colony of Triginta Petra and the Turian-Batarian War, both over thirty-five years ago. Commanded by the reinstated Matriarch Lidanya, current rumors place the ship to have the combine might of the rest of the Asari fleet._

 _Leading the Turian branch of the fleet is Fleet Admiral Tiberius Fedorian, who took command of the Turian detachment after the death of Fleet Admiral Marcus Junius during the war. While his ships guard the border with the terminus, Matriarch Lidanya is in charge of direct protection of the Citadel._

* * *

 _Galactic Codex: Citadel Edition, Galactic Standard Year 2907._

 _ **Quarian Migrant Fleet:**_

 _Count: approx. 50,000 ships._

 _Role: Home to the Quarian Race._

 _ **Commander**_ _: Head Admiral Miri'Ghirn, with an admiralty board including Admiral Zaren'Vali, Zaal'Koris, Shala'Raan, and Han'Gerral._

 _The Migrant Fleet is the name given to the collection of ships that is home to the remains of the Quarians since the Geth Uprising. Formed from the remains of the Technocracy Navy, only an estimate 28,000 ships are of Quarian design. At 50,000 ships, it is the largest single entity fleet in the galaxy._

 _A large fleet, many ships were added on in the near three hundred years the fleet existed. Most are scrapped ships of civilian origin, though few are of council military, like the stolen Hierarchy heavy cruiser Korbin. A few post uprising ships of Quarian design exist. These include the massive Liveships, the largest spacefaring vessels in existence._

 _Though Quarian pilgrims are still allowed into Council Space, tensions still exist since Admiral Miri'Ghirn and Zaren'Vali are still wanted in council space. After the destruction of Triginta Petra, a de facto state of war exists between them and the Turian Hierarchy. However, Primarch Cassiud has been reluctant to send forces to destroy them. The Migrant Fleet have not been spotted in the last year and their whereabouts are unknown._

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/

Post-Edit: Thanks for reading!

To those of you are wondering and have asked,  
I have indeed taken the liberty of  
altering the size of the Destiny Ascension.

It would play an spectacular role a few chapters from now.

Please feel free to review and comment.  
I'm welcome all constructive comments, for I always aim to improve my writing!  
If you got any questions, always feel free to add it to review, or PM me.  
I be glad to answer!

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

* * *

Posted on April 16, 2016 - Beta-read by MoonSword1994


	3. 2: A Hero emerged to light the way

**Chapter Two: Among the darkness, a Hero emerged to light the way.**

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/

A Hero and a Butcher. A Paragon and a Renegade  
No human can be truly one or the other.  
If we are brutal, our humanity makes us look to the light.  
If we are kind, our humanity reminds us we have a darkness inside.

I could never play fully as one or the either.  
Even then, its the same story from two different points of views.  
It makes me think. No _one_ man could do so much in real life.  
When we look to those we idolize, who lead us,  
its never one man.  
A legend simplified from the complex truth.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy Unification Day!

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

* * *

 **Part 1:**

 **Lieutenant Roosa - New Langford, Elysium  
** **Batarian Contact - First Day of the Skyllian Blitz  
June 1, 2167 06:30:00 UTC**

It was a peaceful morning in the small town of New Langford, one of the many small towns scattered across the new colony. Around the town was flat farmland that stretched towards the Elysian horizon. Within the town, the buildings were no taller than four stories, half were of the original pre-fabricated colony buildings first build only a couple year ago, but the other half were newly built brick and mortar buildings that gave the town an old European flavor. These newer buildings were added by the large town plaza, a large circular public area with a small water fountain where the main roads converged. Along its stone laid roads, a few cars drove by on the cobblestone road as the town began to come alive for Unification Day.

A few blocks away in a small market place were the young Lieutenant Roosa, on leave only a day earlier with his crew mates from the FSS _Kitty Hawk_ LCCC-1903. With him that morning was Marine Sergeant George Jenkins, accompanying Roosa as he began the day. Both were ready to celebrate the unification of the nation. But they had two different ideas on that.

"See this Jenkins? That is a fresh roll of bread," said Roosa, pointing at the bread inside the bakery shop they were standing in front of.

Jenkins yawned, still tired from walking up early by Elysian time, "Yes Lieutenant, they do seem fresh. Why don't you buy some so we can head back to the inn?"

"Don't be reclusive, Jenkins. We have a long day ahead. We are on Elysium with 28 hours of celebrating Unity day. I intend to enjoy my time."

"So did I. 12 hours of sleep, then go watch the parade in Illyria on TV back in our room. Followed by more sleep."

"Come on, Jenkins. We have only three days of shore leave before the _Kitty Hawk_ returns from Amaterasu. We should get out and explore."

He rubbed his eyes, "Our job is to explore the freaking galaxy. Some time off to do nothing is just how I want to spend shore leave."

They walked into the bakery, waiting in a small line behind a few people. Roosa and the others in line took pleasure at the smell of newly baked bread. Jenkins took comfort in the warm air from the ovens though, a contrast from the cold morning breeze outside.

"Any reason why you dragged us here to this small town? Thracia or Dacian would have more attractions."

"It's a nice small town. No one knows it's here. Most of the others on leave will be in the main cities. We have the entire town to ourselves."

He ordered several rolls of bread and a cut loaf. He swiped his watch near a credit sensor to pay for it. As they left and walked back outside, a pickup drove up to them. It was Corporal Leon Clemens and Julia Celine, waving over to Roosa and Jenkins.

Celine lowered her window, "Lieutenant, Sargent, you guys need a ride?"

Jenkins looked up, raising his arms in relief, "Thank God. We don't have to walk all the way back to the inn."

They quickly got in and they drove off, heading down the newly paved road. Jenkins looked over to the corner, expecting Clemens to turn left to head back of the plaza. The truck turned right, heading away from the plaza.

Jenkins looked back, "Hey, the inn is on the other side of town. This is heading to the outskirts."

"Exactly!" said Clemens, driving the pickup down the road, "My brother owns a farm between here and Dacian. That's why I tagged along with you guys for shore leave."

Jenkins scooched into the back seat. "Well, wake me up when we're there."

* * *

 **Outside New Langford**

They left the town and drove the main road, eating the bread rolls Roosa bought as Jenkins napped. After several minutes, they left the town proper altogether, emerging to the wide open farm lands, small dots of farm houses across the plain.

"Open green farmland as far as the eye can see. Just like Eden when they first colonized her," said Clemens as he checked his mirror to look at the back seat. "I don't see why Jenkins doesn't like it."

"So Lieutenant, why did you choose this place anyway?" asked Celine.

"Somewhere new, clean. The last time I was planet side was back in the academy on Earth. I don't want to see that again."

Clemens chuckled, "Spacers…"

As they began to approach the farm, a distortion occurred in the radio, the signal fading in and out. Then static filled the airwave.

Clemens looked over, "Hey, what's with the radio? This is complete flatland, there shouldn't be any static."

They attempted to change the stations, but were met with the same blackout. Roosa leaned over between the two front seats, making use of his special issue engineer smart watch to fix the radio. The main computer and hologram matrix was located around the wrist, but was connected to a long tight band the covered the entire forearm. There, additional circuitry allowed advance and accurate biometrics scans.

As they continued tampering the radio, the static grew louder. They finally just turned it off, their attention elsewhere.

Celine stared out, nearly dumbfounded by the sight, "The sky…"

"Are those ships?"

"I haven't see that many ships since the exercise invasion of Terra Nova," Roosa's watch went off, the small screen flashing a blue light. "Hey everyone, quiet down. It's a broadcast message, priority 1."

He turned on his watch, which opened up a holo screen and syncs itself to the truck's speakers.

 _This is Elysium Military Command. Elysium is under attack. All shore leave is cancelled. All military personnel are to report to a military facility to ready for comb…_

The message signal canceled out as a large troop ship flew over them, heading to a few buildings in the distance. The air was momentarily distorted by the transport's thrusters, nearly forcing their truck off the road with its after thrust. They were all thrown inside the truck, waking Jenkins up.

Clemens finally regained control and stopped the truck in the middle of the empty road. "Oh shit, that thing is landing near my brother's farm."

"Corporal, speed up. That ship could be one of the attackers."

* * *

They parked off at a distance and rushed to a small shed, hiding as a squad walked by.

"What the hell are those things?" asked Jenkins, observing the alien as they patrolled the grounds.

"Beady four eyed aliens, with bald heads and yellow skin. Yah, those are some aliens right there," said Roosa.

Clemens pointed over to the back, "They appear to be sticking near the barn and green houses. Sargent, I'll sneak over to the house and get in touch with my brother."

"What about us?" asked Celine, "We aren't armed with any weapons?"

"I'll bring back some rifles, just keep them from the house."

Clemens ran off, hiding behind numerous farm equipment as he circled around to the house. The others stayed back, watching the aliens' movement. They then noticed a few standing in front of a barn as the rest walked away to the fields.

Roosa whispered over to them, "Jenkins, Celine. Over there, at the barn."

Jenkins picked up a rock and took aim. As the few raiders watched the open ground, Jenkins threw it, hitting the main door. The raiders turned around and took aim, looking for the source. One took point and entered the barn, followed quickly by the others.

They sneaked over to the main doors. Three raiders were searching the barn, their backs turned to the door as they sorted through farm equipment and shelved crops. Roosa gestured for them to grab a few blunt objects near the entrance as he began programming his watch. When they confirmed they were ready, Roosa gave the signal.

"Engage!"

They burst into the barn. Roosa raised his left arm, his watch activating a holo combat hover drone. It quickly rushed at the aliens, electrocuting them as they closed the gap, wooden planks and iron jacks in hand. Before the raiders could regain their stance, they were beaten by the Terrans, who made sure they stayed down. Afterwards, they grabbed the alien weapons, taking a quick look at them as they gathered at the back.

"What kind of gun is this?" asked Jenkins.

"It looks like a rifle, with a grip and trigger. But nothing to indicate ammo or batteries." Roosa played with it a bit more, a lead blocking suddenly falling off. "Lead blocks, might use the same method we used. But what about power usage?"

As he locked the block back in, a few more raiders from the field rushed over and into the barn. The Terrans quickly rushed behind the cover of several different stalls and brought their new weapons to bear. Roosa throw out another drone to distract them as they opened fire. At the pull of the trigger, they laid down deadly fire of sand grain round traveling over seven thousand meters a second, before the weapon stopped and overheated with a bloody mess on the ground that was once a squad of raiders.

"Enemy down!" Shouted Roosa through the noise of gunfire.

"Lieutenant, check this out. The weapon jammed after continuous firing." Jenkins pointed out how their rifles were making a beeping sound and a small red light. The beeping then stopped and the light turned off. A puff of steam began to dissipate at the side of the rifles, causing them to nearly drop the rifle as it scorched their hands.

"Might need to cool down to be fired," said Celine. "Huh, our Lancers don't have that problem."

Two more people rushed into the barn. The three brought their rifles back up, but were quick to recognize Clemens and his brother.

"Hold fire, it's Clemens."

He walked up to him, a rifle in each hand.

"Sir, AR?"

Roosa held up the alien rifle. "Theirs will do."

Clemens gave a stare at it. "Huh, expected something more advanced looking."

They said their greetings and left the barn, with Clemens pointing out to follow his brother. They rushed around the green houses, located on an elevation above the burn field where the raider troop ship was.

They hid behind a short wall, looking over to see their movement below. They noticed several of them walking to an open bay door, with several humans going ahead with their arms tied behind them.

"What are they doing to them?" asked Jenkins.

"Looks like they're forcing them into the ships," said Clemens.

His brother took a better look, "Oh hell, those are the Avgusts and the McDorlins."

They ducked back down behind the wall as Celine looked to Roosa, "Aliens capturing humans. We have to save them. They might experiment or enslave them, or some other messed up shit."

"They outnumber us ten to one. We need support first," said Roosa.

They then heard gunshots and looked back over. They saw some of the humans run off into the field to escape. The alien radiers reacted, opening fire on the still bound civilians, killing a few of them.

Clemens shouted out in anger, "They killed them! You god damn savages!" He leveled his rifle, a civilian AR-25, and opened fire. The raiders reacted to the ambush and formed up against them. The rest were forced to engage as well, picking off their shots.

Roosa signaled them, "Damn it! Jenkins, Celine, go around and get the survivors. We'll provide cover fire."

They kept up the attack, holding off the aliens as the others ran off to the other side and down the hill to rescue the captured humans. As they were focused on the three of them, they laid down suppressing fire, their fast sand grain rounds tearing the brick wall apart. As they kept fighting, two fighters flew by, distracting them momentarily before they resumed to pinning Roosa's team down.

"This is Toronto-3. Anyone down there? Over."

Roosa lifted his watch, "Toronto-3, this is Lieutenant Roosa, Terran Navy. We're engaging the alien troops you just flew over. We are pinned down and need air support."

"Roger LT, preparing a fly by. We'll make alien scrap metal out of them."

Jenkins radioed in, "Roosa, do not open fire on the alien ship!"

He relayed back to him, keeping his head down as parts of the wall were chipped away by raiders' gunfire, "Jenkins, what do you mean?"

"We made it to the alien cargo bay. There's more humans inside. We need time to free them."

Roosa switched frequency as dust and pieces of brick fell on him and Clemens brothers. "Toronto, change target, do not fire on enemy ship. Civilian captives are inside. Change target to enemy troops between us and the ship."

"Confirm change of target. LT, target area is danger close."

"Confirm, begin run, danger close."

Roosa dropped his rifle and grabbed a hold of Clemens and his brother as the fighters reappeared from the horizon. They jumped into a water drain ditch behind them as the fighter flew by, dropping explosives on the aliens below them. They kept down as the explosion scorched everything around them. After the sound of the fighters disappeared, they radioed back in.

"This is Toronto-3, scanners confirm. Target is down. Watch out for stranglers, heat sensors indicate a few among the target zone."

They stood up, Roosa dusting himself off as he climbed back out, "Thanks Toronto. Safe flight."

They climbed out of the ditch and began to walk towards the ship. They slid down the burnt hill and into the blacken fields, looking through the dead alien bodies for anyone alive. As they walked near the ship, Roosa spotted one of them closest to the ship, moaning in pain as blistering burn mark from the air attack covered his once yellow face.

Clemens got there first, taking aim with his rifle. But Roosa ordered him to stand down. He walked up to him, grabbing him by his shirt collar and sat him up. Roosa knelt down and stared him down.

"Who are you? Why are you attacking us?"

He groveled. Roosa wasn't sure if his moaning was over the burn marks from the incendiary explosive or of the alien holding him up.

"Damn, of course, no translator," He dropped the alien, who continued to moan in pain. He noticed the raider's left hand light up with an orange holographic sheath, one similar to his when his watch activated. Clemens and his brother walked over.

"It looks like one of their watches."

"Yah… we could use that," Roosa activated his watch, linking it up with the raider's omnitool. "We can try to gather up some intel on them. Command would want that, and we could make a basic translator."

"Hey Lieutenant, what's the name of the aliens here?" asked Clemens' brother.

Roosa compiled his data and searched the omnitool's archives, "Ba…tarian? Batarian."

Clemens looked down on the alien, "Oh, you picked the wrong fuckin' planet to invade. When we're done here, we're gonna burn down Bataria or whatever your homeworld is to the ground!"

They left the batarian, who they concluded was good as dead since they couldn't, and wouldn't, treat him. They climbed up on the docking bay ramp, where Jenkins and Celine were treating a dozen civilians who were captured by the batarians.

Roosa stared on, horrified by the sight and stench of the bay, a small cramped bay with hundreds of cages line up and over one another. "Dear God, what happen here?"

Jenkins walked up to him, "It's horrible, they captured the locals here and locked them up in this cages along the wall."

"They treated them like animals. Look at this." Celine tossed a small cone shaped device to Roosa.

"What is it?" asked Roosa.

"A cranial device. We only need to take a glimpse of the diagrams on the computer screens. Might be for experimentation or to suppress the subject."

He placed it on the palm of his left hand and attempted to interface with it on his watch. For his trouble, the device expanded a bit and gave out an electrical shock, promoting him to drop it. He looked at it in disgust, "That's inhuman. We were fortunate to get here before they had time to implant them."

At the back of the bay, a heavy door began to open up slowly.

"Jenkins, Celine, did you check the rest of the ship?"

"No sir, we've been getting these people out of here."

"Everyone cover that door, now!"

They all ran up behind the crates, waiting behind as the door opened.

The batarians walked out, noticing the escaped humans. As he and his guard ran out, Roosa and his squad ambushed them, killing his guards and incapacitating the main officer of the group. Roosa walked up to him, grabbed his sidearm, and pinned him to the ground as he took aim.

"Who are you?" yelled Roosa, his watch now establishing a basic translator program as he pressed the barrel of the pistol between his four eyes.

The batarian spoke, the watch using invisible force fields to manipulate the sound waves to translate the words. "Get the hell away from me, you savages..."

Clemens walked up to him and fired a round into his leg. The batarian yelled in pain, as Clemens yelled at him, "Answer the Lieutenant's question or the next one is going into one of your four eyes!"

Roosa gestured him to back off, "Now, who are you? Why are you attacking us?"

"I have nothing to say to the likes of you," said the batarian before he snarled at Roosa.

Everyone in the group became annoyed, but Roosa remained calm. After a moment to think, he ripped his shirtsleeve and knelt down, wrapping it around the main wound in his lower left chest. As he treated the wound, he looked over to him, "Now please. Tell me who you are."

The batarian laid there, staring up and refusing to answer. As Roosa patched his wound, the batarian's omnitool lit up. Roosa ignored it, but didn't see as it flash forged an omniblade, turning from orange to hot red. Fortunately, Jenkins saw it.

"Roosa, the alien watch!"

Roosa turned and saw the blade near him. The batarian quickly sat up, attempting to stab Roosa with his omniblade. But the quick warning gave Roosa the chance to lift the batarian's rifle up with his right hand, blocking the blade's slash. He pushed it down, pinning the batarian's arm. He leaned over the batarian, charging his watch's gas accelerator, heating up the air in the palm of his left hand and pressed down on the batarian's chest. The batarians yelled in pain as Roosa pressed down. Roosa clenched his face as he pushed down hard and resisted the push back up. He was then tossed back by a small explosion when the batarian's chest combusted.

Clemens ran over and helped him up, laughing as he looked at the corpse, "Damn Lieutenant, you blew him up!"

Roosa stood back up, flicking the batarian off himself, "Damn… we could have gotten some answers... let's go."

* * *

 **Part 2:**

 **President Jonathan Bowman - Presidential Manor, Versailles, France  
Hours Before Batarian Contact, Hours After Council and Quarian Contact  
June 1, 2167 02:30:00 UTC**

"Bowman. Message from Grissom and Naval Command…"

It was the middle of the night in the heart of France. Beyond the closed balcony doors was the acres of beautiful gardens of the Palace of Versailles. Once the home to the French Monarchy, it was now the residence to the President of the Federation. In the main bedroom, a middle aged man with a thick five o'clock shadow and stress grayed hair shifted to the side of his bed and threw a pillow at his AI assistance's hologram. He then buried his face in the other one before grumbling.

"I have a long day tomorrow. Tell him to bother me at the Unity Ceremony."

"Sir. Reports are in from the Frontier. We have confirmation of Code Sagen. First Contact."

The news was enough to get his attention. But he slowly sat up and simply looked at the clock on his bedside table.

"S-Sagen? Did someone build a giant antenna?"

"No sir. Actually, Code Segan and Code Leinster are both in effect. We made two separate First Contacts. One of them involved a ship from the second fleet, the _William Clark_. It was captured."

Bowman rubbed his eyes as he tried to find the switch for his lamp. "What? Captured? By who, Scott?"

"The Citadel Council…"

"Council…" He stared at him for a moment, his eyes nearly shut. Suddenly, they popped wide open as the words made their way into his mind. "You mean…"

"Yes sir. That Council. Williams and Section 14 are confirming righting now."

Bowman shot out of bed, throwing aside his blanket. He stumbled on the ground in a near panic before he got up and rushed to get dressed. "Alert Grissom. I want a flotilla of the Sol Fleet at the Transwarp relay. And ready a ship to take me to Pluto, now!"

Scott nodded to him, "Yes sir… So this, is it…"

He opened his closet door and pushed aside his old clothes, including his old Admiral coat, five golden pips in a holo gold bar on the right side collar before he found his suit coat. "Exactly Scott. Go to Code Wells. If they know of us… then the Batarians won't be far behind."

* * *

 **President Bowman and Admiral Grissom - FSS _Sol's Gleam_  
June 1, 2167 04:30:00 UTC**

Bowman stood at the front of the bridge of the _Sol's Gleam_ , the Terrans' first Flagship, the last of the old _David's Slingshot_ Class. Outside its massive viewport was Pluto and its former moon, the Charon Mass Relay. But nearby was the newest in Terran engineering, the Transwarp Conduit.

It was once a pet project dating before the Great Revival, when Bowman was once one of the first exploration captains to explore the Beta Quadrant. The old Warp Drive effortlessly moved space at FTL. His father, Henry Bowman, was the man who invented the modern Hyperdrive, making off relay exploration possible. But as he stood there, Grissom walking over to him, he saw the next step in FTL.

It was simple. The conduit would fold space, Point A near the conduit, shaped like a toy metal jack, and Point B. In theory, Point B could be anywhere in the universe. But practical usage and current understanding in space coordinates and mathematics made it only possible in explored areas in the known galaxy. It was suggested in the fifties that it could replace the Prothean mass relays one day. After decades of delay, prohibitive cost, and nearly five kilograms of antimatter for each massive fold, that clearly wasn't the case.

But to be able to open a fold space and transport entire fleets in minutes, its strategic value was too great. Soon, its tactic usage would be of the utmost.

"Scott. Give me a run down on the _Clark_ ," He asked.

The AI materialized in full next to him, appearing to be reading from a tablet, " _William_ _Clark_ , CVCC-1812, Second Fleet, a Lewis Class corvette . Captained by Captain Kwesi Akachi, twenty three year career officer and Revival Veteran. First Officer Daniel Robertson, an eight year officer from the Rehabilitation Draft Initiative. The remaining officer core are on their first tour, including Lieutenant Jack Donnelly, Admiral Donnelly's great grandson."

Bowman groaned, "He probably knows already. Keep him away from this affair. He won't be happy..."

"Yes, Mr. President."

From behind, he was called out, "Bowman!"

Bowman turned around. "Grissom. Is the Sol Fleet ready?"

"A thousand ships ready to make for the fold. I'd like to see the face on Roland when we bring a few starbases right over Elysium." He handed Bowman a tablet with information. "We haven't send more than a few probes using this thing."

He began to scroll through, "His fleet has been alerted, yes?"

"Admiral Villyard is already sending the ships through the relays. ETA three hour."

"Elysium…" Bowman handed the tablet back and chuckled, "I heard that was your first choice to retire?"

Grissom smiled as he began typing on the tablet. "Perfect place, Jonathan. Low gravity, decent climate, the sun even has the damn decency to set at a reasonable time. Not like Eden."

"I might take you up on that. I'm too old for this."

"Both of us are. But if what you said is true…"

"With the _Clark's_ capture, the Batarians are sure to find us. But we know where they are too!" He slammed his fish in his other hand, "We must attack!"

"Don't work yourself over, Jonathan. This isn't the 30's. If what those other aliens said is true, we really do have the largest fleet in the galaxy. A flotilla seems like overkill."

Bowman shook his head and clench his forehead to massage it. He then took a deep breath, "After what I saw them do… overkill is too merciful."

Grissom crossed his arms as he looked out into the void with him, "Just don't lose sight of who we're really planning to fight."

He crossed his arms, "When I became President, I was hoping this would be the only conspiracy I'd have to deal with."

Scott turned to him, "Mr. President. The conduit crew reports ready."

"Thank you Scott. Grissom, send them in. Unlike this Council, I bet they're smart enough to connect us to what happen thirty-six years ago. If they try to attack, I want them eating our metric ton slugs!"

"Yes sir!" Grissom turned around and signaled to his flag officers at the command table. "Open the fold, send the Flotilla in!"

The conduit crew received the signal and began opening the fold, channeling the raw power of annihilating matter to fold space between Sol and Vetus. The whole conduct lit up in a dark green glow as space-time folded, an entirely cosmetic affair and a weird one at that since Terran standards demanded a blueish glow to everything that emitted light. The fold, giving off on infrared scanners as a large gash in space, then appeared. It was almost invisible to the naked eye since both ends of the fold was pitch black space.

The fleet rushed in, their impulse engines at max, a thousand ships disappearing and reappearing. As soon as they emerged, Bowman stepped forward to see what was happening. His jaw dropped ever slightly, but his eyes widen up.

* * *

"Fold? A… a transwarp fold?" asked Roland.

"Confirming… It's the Sol Fleet!"

Hanson turned to Rodriguez, a holo screen display of the thousand fighters from the _Sherman_ between them.

"How is that possible? We couldn't send a distress signal!"

"Let's count ourselves lucky," said Rodriguez, "Message from the _Sol's Gleam_."

Roland nodded to them, "Play it on the main screen."

They turned to large viewport, where a large holoscreen played for the entire bridge crew of fifty plus.

"This is President Bowman. Roland, I'm giving you command of the Third Flotilla of the Sol Fleet. Destroy the enemy menace!"

The screen cut as a thousand Terran ships jump out of hyperspace from the closed fold and surrounded the _Sherman_.

The crew all turned to Roland. He looked around a bit and walked to the center of the bridge.

"Well? You heard what the president said. Let's defend Elysium and beat some damn _Freedom_ into these damn enslaving bastards! For Terra!"

" _For Terra_!"

* * *

 **Part 3:**

 **Lieutenant Roosa - Outside New Langford  
June 1, 2167 08:00:00 UTC**

They drove the truck back to town, rushing as fast as it could down the empty road, clouds in the distance as tracers from a distance filled the air. In it was Clemens and Jenkins, while in the flat bed was Roosa, Celine, and two national guard troopers they picked up back near the farm. The naval personnel were still in civilian ware while the guards lacked the advance power armor of the army, equipped with older combat vests, personal shielding and gear, though their weapons and training were just as deadly.

"Outpost-154, Outpost-154. This is Lieutenant Perseus Roosa, please respond." No return came from the signal. Roosa looked to the two soldiers in the truck. "Do you two know what's going on?" asked Roosa.

"Not much, sir. No official signal has been sent from orbit. But I heard rumors from a high mountain observation outpost."

"What kind of rumors?"

"Rumors are saying that the Sol Fleet is over orbit already. Based on what deciphered chat they got, President Bowman is leading the defense himself from orbit.

"The President? What is he doing here?"

"Don't know, sir. Rumors, but still. We can confirm we're being attacked by some alien force."

Celine sighed, "Damn… an alien attack. They could be launching a full invasion of the Federation. We might have lost other worlds already."

"If we had lost other planets, we would have known. Elysium is a frontier colony. We might be taking the hit of the first vanguard."

"First contact, and it involves a war with some alien race. Something from the movies is finally coming true." said Jenkins. "And it had to be this."

Roosa looked to him, "But we won't lose this one. We're Terran, right!"

They yelled in unison, "Hoorah!"

More fighters flew by, heading towards the town. As they watched, Roosa's watch lit up. He answered it, expecting some message from Outpost 154.

"This is Starbase 98, taking over for Elysium Command. Broadcasting to anyone in sector D-04. Is there anyone in the vicinity of New Langford? I say again, this is Starbase 98. Is there anyone in the vicinity of New Langford?"

Roosa answered it, "This is Lieutenant Roosa of the FSS _Kitty Hawk_. We are groundside, have engaged alien forces, and are on route to New Langford."

A moment of static before a response, "Roger Lieutenant. Intelligence indicates the enemy forces are attacking the town. Engage the enemy and hold them back. New Victoria's defenses are being used to focus other forces away New Langford. If New Langford falls, so will Victoria."

"Affirmative, we'll regroup with any local forces and hold the town for reinforcement."

"Reinforcements currently unknown. Hold at all cost. Out."

As the comm cut, Celine looked to Roosa.

"Starbase 98?"

"Weird…"

They continued on, driving down the road as they passed into the town's limits. As they came up on the outskirts, they noticed a roadblock set up, with the batarian troops blocking the way.

"They're blocking the road," said Clemens, looking back at Roosa.

Roosa nodded, "Ram them, Clemens! Everyone, open fire."

The truck sped up, as they stood up in the back and opened fire. The guard soldiers were equipped with the standard M7 Lancers, the standard issue rifle of the Terran military.

Similar to the council rifle, it was the first successful human rifle to shred rounds from a lead block and launch it as incredible speeds. The Terran version fired marble size round, but with the lack of element zero technology, they used a mircofusion battery to give the rails enough power to fire. Roosa and the rest still used the weapons they salvaged from the skirmish on the farm, the first Terrans to use the galaxy standard mass accelerated small arms.

They rammed the blockade, killing several batarians in the process. Two batarian ground vehicles gave chase, trying to get up and ram them off the road. Clemens sped up as the rest opened fire on the pursuing trucks behind them. They shoot through the windshield off one truck, killing the driver and crashing the truck. The other kept giving chase, until one of the guards threw a multi-purposed grenade that stuck on the hood of the batarian truck, blowing out its engine.

* * *

They found themselves alone again and continued into town. Quickly, they saw waves of civilians on the roads in town. Clemens slowed down to avoid fleeing civilians, either running or driving through the streets to get away from the combat area. They stopped at a police outpost, which was directing fleeing civilians to guarded shelters across town.

Roosa stood up and waved to him, "Officer, do you know what's the situation around town?"

He turned to him, noticing the one solid circle pip and one hollow pip on his left right collar. "Lieutenant. Good, the National Guard is here. We're stretched thin across town."

"Actually officer, we're all you got. Two Guards, three Marines and a Naval officer originally on shore leave. We don't even have our weapons or shields."

"Damn it… do you know when we'll receive aid?"

"New Victoria is under siege, along with Dacian, Illyria and Thracia. Reinforcements' ETA is unknown. We got orders to hold the town."

"Hold the town? We're retreating the civilians to shelter then moving them to New Victoria."

Roosa shook his head, "Can't. The road going there is unguarded. If they take this town, they'll have a straight shot to the city. We need to hold here until the city is secure."

The officer scratched his head, "Damn it, fine. I'll radio ahead to the Chief. He's setting up a defense line at the town center. If they take the center, those damn alien invaders will have that path to the city."

"Thank you officer, we'll head there and aid in holding it."

They drove on, readying their equipment. While the national guard soldiers had their rifles and energy shielding, Roosa and the rest had to salvage equipment from the ship. They took more advance rifles from the batarian ship and readapted their shielding, which the watch read out as 'kinetic barriers' from the built in programming and the watch's translator.

Roosa looked to everyone, "Everyone ready?"

They all replied, "Yes sir."

Clemens added on, "We're nearing the center."

They arrived at the center as a light skirmish was under way. But as the truck entered into the combat zone, a stray missile from the batarian side of the plaza came through at them. They all noticed and jumped off before the missile hit. The officers up ahead turned back and jumped out of the way, as the inflamed truck drove through their cover and crashed into the center fountain.

As the few remaining officers regroup, some in their regular uniform, one or two in SWAT gear, some fell back to help them up.

"Are you alright?" yelled the chief as he picked up Roosa, rushing them to a car being used as cover, followed closely behind by the others.

"I'll be fine…" The glass window above them broke, shattering glass on them, "We're your reinforcements!"

The chief looked over pass the broken window, seeing more batarians rush into the plaza, "Ah, I see. My officer radioed in. We could use all the help we can get."

"Have you received any new word?" asked Roosa.

"I got word from a two-way radio. Even if we fall, Victoria is safe and the guard will intercept them."

"The city is safe. So should we fall back?" asked Roosa.

"Absolutely not. The guards are still hours away and the civilia…" Another sniper round came through, punching through the doors of the car and between the chief and Jenkins. "Get inside that hardware store!"

They all ran in as several officers fired out from the display window to keep the raiders at bay with their AR-25s and SWAT M-96 Mattocks, both still chambered in the RASA 5.75mm. After getting to the backroom where several wounded were being treated, he continued.

He used his watch to create a holomap. "We can't afford to lose the town. The civilians here can't escape until the surrounding area is secured, so we need to prevent the aliens from moving into the secured part of town."

Roosa nodded, "Yes sir, we'll hold the line."

As more officers rushed in from the back door, the chief patted him on the shoulder as he peered out to the front. "What's your name, Lieutenant?"

"Roosa. _Kitty Hawk_."

"Chief Bailey… Get down!"

They ducked as a few sand grain rounds shredded through the window and into the ceiling above them. The officers responded with their own lead rounds as the others fired back with their own weapons.

"You seen combat like this?" asked Roosa as he held his hand up to block the falling dust.

"Served in the Navy during the revival. Then spent a few years in NYPD. I was hoping for something quite in the colonies."

A loud explosion resonated from a nearby building, as ruble fell near-by and some picked up dust came into the store. A shout came from outside, "Tank! Alien tank approaching."

Bailey leaned over to look out to the front, "But it just doesn't end. We had ordinates to take it out, but we lost it on the other side of town."

"What about air support?"

"I can't get through; the National Guard must be using them."

Another yell from someone outside came in, "More enemy troops coming out. It's a full assault."

Roosa waved at his squad to head out, "We'll head out and keep them at bay."

* * *

They spread out across the town center. Roosa, Jenkins and Celine ran out to the center fountain and their burn out truck, acting as cover, while Clemens led the Guard troops to the left flank. Roosa deployed a combat drone, using it to draw fire as they and the officers with them laid down fire on the batarians. The batarian tank rolled up, firing its mass accelerator cannon at the fountain.

With the fountain shattered, they fell back to the barricades near the building on their side of the center plaza. Roosa regrouped with the others as the batarians advanced and their tank repositioned itself. A few batarians charged ahead, but were quickly shot down. But in spite the clearly larger losses by the batarians, they keep pressing, only making it harder to hold on as the Terrans remained out numbered and well outgunned.

As more of the batarians swarmed in on the grounds of the plaza, Jenkins spotted a sniper team setting up on a prefab building across the plaza.

"Roosa! Sniper on the tall prefab."

Roosa ran over to Jenkins's location on the right flank, as he dodged machine gunfire from the tank on the other side of the plaza.

"Jenkins, where did you say the sniper was?"

He looked over his cover, a car filled with sandbags, and spotted the sniper, who quickly proceeded to take a shot at him, only to miss and take out a side mirror.

"The tall prefab on the other side of the plaza, between those two brick buildings."

Roosa activated his watch, deploying a combat drone to look over and see. He viewed the bot's video through his watch.

"I see it. We need to take that team out before they can dial in and take us out."

Another shot came through, hitting the drone and disintegrating the hologram. It was quickly followed by a tank round, which was now able to aim low enough to hit the second floor of the building behind them from across the plaza.

As dust fell on them, Jenkins yelled to Roosa, the explosion deafening both of them, "Roosa! What about the tank?"

He shook his head to regain his hearing before answering, "Just keep it distracted on this side of the plaza. I'll go around and take out the team somehow."

"What?" Another sniper round came through, skidding just the top of his kinetic barrier, causing it to momentarily become visible before disappearing again. Quickly following it was automatic fire from the raiders, tearing through the windows of the car. "Ok then, go!"

Roosa activated another drone and sent it over the car. As soon as the sniper shot it, Roosa rushed out and ran around to the other side of their side of the plaza as the sniper rushed to cool his rifle. He managed to slide into cover with Clemens and the soldiers as a sniper round hit the pavement behind to him, uprooting a chunk of cement.

"Ideas on how to take out the sniper nest over there?" asked Roosa as he leaned over to take a shoot at some advancing raiders.

One of the soldiers offered a suggestion, "Sir, the prefab. They are held up by a main support beam. If we set a charge, we could topple the whole building."

"Ok then. But do we have such explosives?"

"We only have a few grenades. We'll need something stronger than that."

The tank turned its turret away from the other side and fired, destroying the building behind them, nearly burying them in the falling debris. As they got back up and dusted themselves off, Roosa hatched a plan.

"The tank! We'll trick it to fire on the building."

Clemens looked at him in confusion, "How are we supposed to trick them to do that?"

Roosa pointed over to the row of buildings lined up with the prefab, "We make our way around slowly. They'll try to fire as soon as they reload. If we…" Another sniper round came through, hitting the shoulder of one of the Guards.

Clemens rushed over and stayed low, laying him on the ground as he used the Guard's medkit to seal the wound, large and gushing with blood.

"Shit Roosa. If it wasn't for the vest, that could have clipped his arm right off."

He directed the other one to treat him, "Clemens, we'll make it aim closer to the building and make it hit as close to it. Taking out a huge chunk of that prefab should destroy the prefab whole. That sniper has to be taken out!"

"Let's go then. We won't last long otherwise."

The two guard soldiers stayed as Clemens followed Roosa around the far left side of the plaza. They ran from cover to cover as they crossed the plaza, Roosa throwing overload shockballs at the tank from his watch.

The tank took notice, an old batarian model armored vehicle that still used tracks like the Terrans, unlike the Turian hovertanks. Inside, the commander patted the gunner to turn the gun at Roosa, whose electric shocks kept overloading their systems with short EMP disruptions. The turret turned its attention from the main Terran defense and took aim at the two as they made their way around. All the while, the raiders outside tried to get the gunner to aim back to the main Terran force as officers and Marines focused their attack on the unsupported raiders.

After three additional near hits by the tank, slowly being covered with debris and dust from the blown out buildings, they concluded it was firing at about seven second intervals. To the Terran's hope and amazement, the gunner kept trying to hit them and thus was slowly turning his turret closer to the sniper post. Between each shot, they returned fire, firing at the batarians' back as they were flanked and further harassed the tank, giving them its continued attention.

They got to a small tea shop just next to prefab, with the sniper unaware they were beneath them. The tank fired another slug, smashing through the window of the shop. Roosa singled Clemens to stay down behind the cover of abandon cars, staying up for the tank to only see him. After counting the first four seconds, he began to run further into the batarian's side the plaza, the tank's turret lining its sight on him. He ran past the prefab as he finished counting six. He then jumped out of the way as the tank recklessly fired on the seventh second, the 1/8 of a kilo, one hundred and twenty millimeter round flew through the air at 3% of light, narrowly missing Roosa as it flew right above him, while he jumped through the air and collided into a parked car nearby before rolling onto the ground.

The slug punched through, exerting its kinetic energy onto the main support beam. Dramatically weakened, the building's wall and support beams cracked throughout the entire structure. As Roosa looked up, he turned over to see as the building crumbled in a few short seconds, the first floor module collapsing, followed by the second that crash and crumbled onto the first, then followed by the third that fell all the way through to the ground, taking the sniper team with it.

As he watched, Clemens ran over to Roosa as he laid on the ground, recovering from the explosive concussion. He picked him up and they ran back to the other side of the plaza, dodging the slugs of the tank while the raiders regrouped and pressed forward with their attack.

* * *

 **Part 4:**

 **Sol Fleet and Second Fleet - Elysium  
June 1, 2167 09:00:00 UTC**

The Sol Fleet bashed their way into formation to create a barrier between Elysium and the batarian fleet. Forming the backbone was the heavy cruisers and battlecruisers of the home fleet. But as they created a firing line to combat the batarian battle fleet, the majority of the Sol Fleet began their own mission.

At two hundred meters, the Terran frigate was the largest of the Scout category ships. Making up nearly 40% of the Navy, they split of into three prong attack against the alien menace over Elysium. Two waves, supported by fighter bombers, rushed to flank the batarian fleet as the heavy Sol Fleet moved straight in. The third wave descended into Elysium to provide aerial support, or disable and board escaping raider vessels as they flee into the atmosphere.

It did not take long for the badly outmatched, outdated, and outnumbered batarian fleet to be overwhelmed by the advancing Terran Navy. Though the batarians held the advantage in outranging the Terrans with their fast loading mass accelerators, the Terran's slower but deadly rounds tore through clusters of ships at once. After losing two dreadnoughts, the batarians turned tail. Leaving behind thousands of soldiers and state sponsored raiders on Elysium, the remaining two hundred ships making an unorganized dash for the relay.

Bowman continued to monitor the combat situation as he stared out the bridge as the fleet gave chase. The Terran ships' guns were short of their maximum effective range, their slow slugs being evaded by the batarian ships in time, though some accidently collided with each other as the disorganized ships scurried about.

"We're going to let them go?" asked Grissom.

"Absolutely not. There is no need for them to alert their superiors of what happen." He crossed his arms and began to rub his chin as he thought. "The Second Fleet should be here…"

They finally reached the nexus of relays at the outskirts of the Vetus system. The batarians dashed towards the main relay leading into Hegemony space. But as they did so, they saw the wheels containing the eezo core span quickly to indicate its current usage.

As the first of the fleeing ships made it to the relay, a Terran Flagship left the mass free tunnel and rammed the small ships with its frontal tip hull. Thousands more then popped out, prompting the batarains to flee away as each ship of the Second came through with their weapons ablaze.

From the _Sherman_ , Roland rushed to the command table and opened hail to the leading ship of his fleet, the _Dust of the Mojave_.

"Admiral Villyard!"

A full hologram of him appeared. He saluted him and responded, "Admiral Roland. Are you ok?"

"I'm fine. But you took your damn time with my fleet."

He joked, "Your advice sir. 'Fashionably Late', no?"

Roland smiled and sighed, "You'll never make Fleet Admiral like Hackett if you actually follow my advice!"

He chuckled, "I'll keep that in mind." Villyard's head turned as he looked over to an alert his own table on his end. "Marines are ready for deployment. Marine Admiral Averil would like to discuss deployment..."

"I don't care what Averil wants! Tell him to do his damn job and kill the remaining aliens on Elysium. _Sherman_ will provide escort."

* * *

 **Lieutenant Roosa - New Langford**

"I said cover me, Jenkins!"

"What the hell are you doing?"

Roosa sat behind cover of a car as Jenkins provided suppressive fire, typing fiercely on his watch. On the other side of the plaza, the tank kept repositioning, unable to get a direct shot of them. It then moved over to the wreckage of the prefab and then stopped. Celine looked over from an adjacent car near them.

"The tank stopped, Roosa. The heat syncs appeared to be venting."

He clenched his fist and smiled. "Hacked those four eyed bastards!"

The tank fired, its turret stuck and aimed at the second floor of the hardware store. Roosa and Jenkins jumped out of the way at opposite ends as a portion of the wall fell on the car. Roosa quickly crawled over to Clemens, who looked over to him.

"You might want to give that another shot LT."

A batarian charged at them and slid over the hood of the car. As he reached the other end, Roosa looked up and grabbed him by the handles of his armor. He then pinned him of the ground and gripped his face with his left hand. His watch lit up and heated his palm, incinerating his face until red goo and the socket of four eyes were left.

"You can only do so much with this watch."

They continued fighting, the raiders pressing on without their armor as they relayed more on their greater number. The chief then ran out the store as his officers began to fall back inside.

"Roosa…" he took cover and saw the tank across the plaza, hot white steam coming from its barrel and engine. "Perfect, the tank is down!"

"It's disabled, but not for long."

"Hmmm, then I have an idea to take out that tank!"

"Really?" Roosa stood up and shot a batarian approaching them, "What have you got?"

Bailey opened his holomap, "So the entire plaza has a gas line that circles the center and distributes gas to the nearby buildings. At four places, there a main storage tank underneath that stores the gas till it's needed."

"So we should flood the pipes and blow them up?" said Roosa.

"We'll blow up the entire center in the process. We need to divert gas to a single tank and get that their tank over it. Then we need to channel hot gas through a single pipe to ignite it."

"My combat engineer watch can create the heated gas. But what about diverting the gas flow?"

"My officers can handle it. But we're being flanked from the north side, so I'm moving my officers away." He pointed over to the opposite side of the plaza, just to the right of the tank. "There's a gas tank just where the aliens are. We'll send the gas there. Can you and you men hold the plaza by yourselves?"

Roosa nodded, "We'll hold…"

He noticed a flash and looked up over the damaged car they were behind. Behind the batarians at the second floor of a building across was the flash from a reflected mirror. He looked closely, seeing a small girl at the window.

"Did you see that?"

"There's still civilians in that building, oh no…"

"We have to save them!"

"Roosa, wait!"

He rushed out of cover from the chief, working his way to the right as the chief called him back. As he approached Jenkins and Celine, the tank regained control of its turret and took aim. Another round came through, slamming the ground just in front of them. All of them were thrown back and onto the ground, the car they used for cover slammed into the display of the store behind them. The chief rushed to help Roosa, but he quickly got up and directed him to help the others as they still laid on the ground.

He ran and fired his rifle, making his way to the remains of the center fountain. He turned back and signaled the guard soldier with Clemens to throw a smoke grenade at the tank. The guard complied and lobbed a smoke canister. As it consumed the raider forces, he broke from cover and charged across the plaza.

The tank itself stayed put, but the other batarians rushed out the smoke to fire on Roosa as he ran across. He kept running as he fired back to this side until the rifle overheated. He reached the building and abandoned the rifle before he dove head first into the window display, landing on several tables. Before the dust cleared, two batarians came in, taking aim at the debilitated Terran laying in a pile of broken wood. But before they fired, on the staircase leading to the door, rifle fire came through, shooting through the barriers and the batarians at close range. Roosa looked over, seeing an older woman with an AR-25. A small girl then came down as well and hid behind her leg.

She turned to Roosa, "Are you alright?"

Before he responded, another batarian came through the door, but Roosa quickly paid his debt in turn and used his watch to throw an electric shock ball at him, stunning him long enough for the lady to shoot him.

"I'm fine," he said as he stood up and quickly got to the wall with the staircase to watch the door. "Lieutenant Roosa, Terran Navy, _Kitty Hawk_."

"Doctor Chakwas. _Thunder Child_."

He upholstered his side pistol and leaned over before he fired out the door as he signaled the guard across the plaza to pop more smoke. Exhausted and breathing heavily as he kept watch, Roosa turned to them, "Navy Doc huh? Some shore leave we have. Who's the girl?"

Chakwas looked down, the little girl grasping her as she held on to a small mirror and a doll.

"A friend, she got separated from her parents during the attack."

"She may have saved your life." He looked over, seeing the smoke block the tank form aiming. "Let's go Doc, we have wounded on the other side."

They walked over to him, handing him her rifle as she picked up the girl in her arms. As the smoke reached its max spread, he ran out and fired. As he did so, Chakwas ran out, holding the girl. Roosa stood in place as he and the few left in the plaza gave them a clear path as she ran over to the hardware store. Roosa emptied the magazine, then ran over as well, the smoke clearing and the tank moving once more over to the middle, just where one of the gas tanks were.

They repositioned, just him, the guard and Clemans with the hardware store being what's left of their hold of the town center.

"How's Jenkins and Celine?"

"Nothing severe, but they're down for the count."

The guard soldier turned to them, "No word on reinforcements?"

"We keep holding. Nothing more."

As Chakwas came out again to join them, Clemans was hit in the abdomen, a sand grain penetrating his barrier. Roosa slid behind cover with him, calling for the doctor. As she ran over, the two others laid down what suppressing fire they could, the raiders advancing closer, close to outright overwhelming them.

She ducked behind them and looked to the more equipped soldier, "I need a med kit, toss one over."

The soldier threw his last combat med kit, a small package with bandages, disinfectant, and a quick-heal hypo-spray, a genetically modified serum that increases the human metabolic for near instant healing in a short period of time. Roosa quickly disinfected the area, dropping the bandages for a second as he pulled out Clemens' pistol and looked over their cover, placing several holes into a batarian charging at them. He then wrapped the bandage around his wound, as Chakwas readied the hypo spray.

"Oh Doc please, not the hypo-spray. I rather have a needle through the heart," said Clemens, cringing in pain, though Roosa wasn't sure if it was over the spray or gunshot wound.

"Then I recommend not getting shot, Corporeal. Now hold still." She pressed the cylinder tube near his bullet wound. Quickly, the serum rushed though the clothes and skin, and into the body, a safe though painful method of injection. Quickly, the bleeding stopped as the wound began to shrink, the skin growing back over the wound.

Clemens sat back up, resting beside Roosa as more bullets rush over ahead. His watch's radio opened up.

"Roosa, we diverted the gas back and into the gas lines on the other side of the plaza. We need eyes on where the tank is," yelled Bailey.

Roosa looked up, laying down fire as he checked were the tank was, "The tank is in position, blocking the road heading south." The tank fired again, destroying the building right next to the store.

"Good. The tank is under the storage tank we pumped gas into. Come back through the hardware store. We have a single pipe leading into the other side of the plaza."

"Copy, I'm heading there." He looked to them, "Help me bring Clemens in."

They carried him back to the store, the Guard joining the officers at the storefront window as they rushed for the back. The once peaceful plaza was now in ruin as the raiders converged into the last line of defense. The Terrans got inside and rushed to the back where the rest of the police officers holding the plaza where, treating their wounded. As they rested Clemens next to Jenkins and Celine, the chief waved to him.

"Is this the pipe?" asked Roosa.

"Yes, we modded an air pressure tank to pump air into it. It leads directly to the other side of the plaza. Just heat up the air and we'll turn the plaza into the bowls of hades."

Roosa looked back outside, "And I came here for the old time charm."

"We'll build another one. Hated the style anyway. Was always a city slicker."

He cracked his neck, readying himself, "Ok then. Here goes everything."

He activated his watch, using neural feedback to activate his watch's special self-defense system. A holo shield assembled around his hand, where air was captured in place and heated up to high temperatures, enough to burn a man dead or combust natural gas. He placed his hand over an open section of the vent, where air was being pumped into the gas system. The air passed through the heat air in his palm, heating up and taking some of the heated air with it. Finally, the pipe began to glow red hot as more hot air was pump into the gas lines.

Before they could be sure it worked, a huge explosion was felt from outside, as several officers near the door looked though to see the front. They ran out to see half the plaza on fire, followed close behind by the others. The batarian raiders ran around the plaza, screaming in agony as they were consumed by fire. They looked over to see the tank, which had sunk into the ground where the gas tank was.

But before they could start celebrating, the tank began to move, rolling itself out of the ditch and straight for them.

"It didn't work, everyone back inside!"

The tank aimed it gun at them and fired, blowing the entire front of the hardware store out. As the others laid on the ground, Roosa turned over and sat up, where he saw the tank slowly make its way to towards them. He stood up and leaned against a support beam, staring the tank down, his breath heavy and wounds inflicting. But before it could fire, it exploded, collapsing the ground it stood on and sank back into the inferno ditch as more of the plaza imploded.

The others got back up and walked back outside. They saw as National Guard gunships flew by, engaging the remaining batarian forces across the town. They heard a loud sonic boom from above and looked up, seeing the _Sherman_ entering into the atmosphere above, deploying Marines in shuttles. Many more Terran cruisers appeared in the sky above.

Jenkins cheered out in relief before coughing, "Finally, reinforcements!"

One shuttle quickly descended and landed right in front of them, on the last part of the plaza road that wasn't destroyed. Several Marines deployed, getting off and moving to their assignments. But a news reporter and her hover cam also get off, heading straight for them.

"Excuse me," she said, running up to them, "Flores Melina, NBC Military Corresponded. Are you the defenders of this town?"

"We're the main grouping holding the plaza during the attack," responded Bailey, being held up by one of his officers, the small girl at his side.

She looked to her camera, taking a shot of the group. She signaled to record, "The brave men and women of the New Langford Police department, defending their home town with their lives against the alien menaces," she looked to Roosa, "You don't appear to be with part of the police force?"

He dusted himself off, "The name is Lieutenant Roosa. My crewmates and I were on leave today when the town was attacked."

"A Naval officer and his team, enjoying their leave on the 42nd anniversary of the founding of the Federation, instead found themselves not only defending the nation against the vanguard of an alien invasion, but proving to everyone that the full resolve of the Terran Nation is absolute. You're a hero Lieutenant Roosa!"

He held his hands up in shock, surprised by the compliment, "No, no. I'm no hero. We were doing our job to defend this town. The credit should go to the quick thinking of the New Langford police department, who saved the civilian population and were the ones that destroyed that tank."

"Nonsense," said Bailey, chuckling as he patted him in the back, "I heard what happened at the Clemens Farm outside of town. They save dozens of civilians from being enslaved by those aliens. And if you hadn't arrived, we would have never been to pull off the plan to destroy the tank. Even saved the good doctor… and my daughter."

"There's no denying it, Lieutenant Roosa. You and your squad are the heroes of this town. Even for all of Elysium."

* * *

 _Galactic Codex: Batarian Edition, Year since Batarian Ascension 1065; Galactic Standard Year 2907._

 _ **Great Batarian Hegemony:**_

 _Capital: City of Lat'jong, People's Republic of Gurna, Khar'shan_

 _Government: Liberal Democratic Republic_

 _Chairman: Great War Hero Ut'lok Kavos_

 _The glorious Batarian Hegemony is the great, single, unifying government that rules over the Batarian Race and all subjects under its rule. Formed from the hegemony created by the cultural might of the Gurna nation, the Hegemony of the Batarian Race spans much of the known galaxy. Since ascension over a millennium ago, the Batarian Hegemony plays a major role in galactic politics and maintaining galactic order on behalf of the Citadel Council._

 _The Hegemony is under leadership of the great leader and war hero of the holy war against the Turian Hierarchy, Chairman Ut'lok Kavos. His famed leadership as Admiral of the Hegemony First Fleet lead to the destruction of the Turian Thirty Forth Fleet over the border world of Philippi. His personal ship, the Jong'unil, was credited for the destruction of the dreadnought Titans of Palaven and the death of Tyrant Marcus Junius._

 _Today, the Hegemony has flex significant power in Council affairs. But setbacks have been encountered from Hierarchy intervention, who continue to refuse to admit defeat from the war. The current Tyrant of the Hierarchy, 'Primarch' Gaius Cassiud has used the ill-gotten clout from the weak Asari Republics and Salarian Union to prevent the Batarian Hegemony and the grand Batarian Race from receiving their long overdue seat on the Council. Great Chairman Kavos has pledged to build up the People's Navy to ready another, final war to claim what is rightfully that of the Hegemony._

* * *

 _National Broadcasting Channel News: Special Report News: June 3, 2167_

 _ **Who is the Hero of Elysium?**_

 _Lieutenant Perseus Stuart Roosa, dubbed by the media as the 'Hero of Elysium' is a Terran Naval senior officer on the FSS Kitty Hawk, Fourth Fleet. On shore leave for Unification Day with crewmembers of his ship, he led a resistance group in defending a key junction town of New Langford. The fall of the central located town would have allowed alien forces to reinforce their own forces in capturing several key cities. If this occurred, the aliens known only as the 'Batarians' would have entrenched themselves, forcing the 1st Army to wage a full planet side campaign to retake Elysium. Thanks to Roosa's actions, they prevented the National Guard's rout, allowing reinforcements to quickly re-secure the planet._

 _Perseus Roosa is the first generation of human 'spacers', growing up on numerous exploration ships during the 2140s. His parents are retired Commodore Mark Roosa of the 2nd Squadron of the First Fleet and current Commander Hannah Roosa, XO of the FSS Mauro. He was accepted into the Terran Naval Academy in 2161, quickly exceling to the top of his cadet class._

 _His only spot on his otherwise exemplary record was in the Academic Incident of 2165. Heavily suppressed by the Navy, several cadets were killed in an incident on the Alameda Naval Yard involving several criminal elements and Roosa's cadet squad. His reported defense came at pinning blame on fellow cadet and second in command, current Marine Officer Reginald Edgar Mitchell. Both were however exonerated in disciplinary hearings and Roosa graduated top of his class, though he was only instated as an ensign while lower level graduates were given the starting rank of full Lieutenant. He has however climbed quickly and is believed to have a bright future ahead in the Navy in this new era._

* * *

 _Terran Wikipedia_

 _ **United Terran Federation Sol Fleet:**_

 _Active: 1 July 2136 – Present_

 _Country: United Terran Federation_

 _Branch: United Terran Navy_

 _Type: Fleet_

 _Role: Combat and Space-time Operation; Homeworld Security, Assistance, and Disaster Response._

 _Part of: Terran Naval Command (TERNAVCOM)_

 _Garrison/HQ: Western Shipyards, Earth, United Sol._

 _ **Commanders:**_

 _Current:_

 _Fleet Admiral Albert Donnelly: Head Admiral_

 _Fleet Admiral Herold Muhamad: Sol Defense Contingency_

 _Fleet Admiral Jon Grissom: Arcturus Defense Contingency_

 _Notable:_

 _President Jonathan Bowman_

 _Marine Admiral Dan Falasie_

 _Third Fleet Admiral Anna Darya_

 _The Sol Fleet is the main defense fleet of the Terran Navy. Its main mission revolves under the main directive of guarding the heart of Terran space. This includes the capital of Earth, the Martian Utopia Fleetyard, the areas of the Sol System, the Charon-Arcturus Relay Junction, and the Arcturus System. While defending Sol is of clear importance, Arcturus falls under Sol's protection in cooperation of the Terran Fifth Fleet. The system is the only relay junction connect Sol. The Sol Fleet also guards the local cluster around Sol, ensuring non relay traffic to Sol to be properly guarded and monitored._

 _The Sol Fleet is led by famed explorer and former Fleet Admiral of the American Space Navy Albert Donnelly. The oldest and highest ranking officer in the entire Terran Military, he is aided by co-Fleet Admiral Herold Muhamad, formerly Head Admiral of the European Interstellar Navy, and Jon Grissom, the oldest active senior officer to ascend after Unification and a famed explorer himself. President Bowman was a former Fleet Admiral of the Sol Fleet during the Great Revival. Fleet Admiral Anna Darya was a former Fleet Admiral, promoted from the third, but resigned after the Revival. Current Marine Correspondent for the Joint Chiefs of Staff Marine Admiral Dan Falasie served until 2157._

 _At 25,000 ships, nearly a third of the entire Navy is dedicated to Sol to protect the Earth. A majority of the fleet is staffed by the National Guard Navy. However, massive overspending has placed the fleet in the political arena on whether the number should be cut down to lower the massive debt and deficit of the federal budget. Many have argued though, with the recent alien attack, that the Sol Fleet must be expanded to protect Earth if the numbered Fleets fails to stop an alien invasion. All of the numbered Fleet Admirals have dismissed this, claiming their ships as the first and only defense needed to defend the capital of the Federation…_

 _Last edited 5 June 2167 at 19:45 UTC._

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/

Hey everyone. Thanks for reading.

 _As a whole, humanity is awaking to know they are not alone in the galaxy._  
 _But for its top leaders, the day has come when galaxy truly opens to them._  
 _Now they must make changes to their plans. Some see an opportunity to achieve their great goal. Others dread in this new problem._  
 _But first things first, Contact is here. The Council, the Quarians, and the Batarians._

 _By force and might, by prominence and hope, and by the insane audacity of humanity,_  
 _all the galaxy will know the Terrans._

If I may, I'll address some questions you might have from the last chapter.

Terran AI. A detailed analysis later on in-story, but these aren't your super, do everything AI  
(If they say they are, they're lying or full of it)  
They are like man, loyal to each other by their commonality.  
To feel, to think, to question... and be so human, they error. Small sometimes, big othertimes

Humanity is young. When they first head out into the stars, stories of the possibilities.  
They wanted to go where no man has gone before.  
But while most think that dream is alive, others know galaxy doesn't work that way.  
The unknown is dangerous. And knowing can be even worse.

We'll get back to the Quarian and Council Contact later. There's a war on, and someone with four eyes need  
sweet, sweet Terran liberty beaten into them.

So stay tuned.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

* * *

Posted on April 17, 2016 - Beta-read by MoonSword1994


	4. 3: Freebird

**Chapter Three: Freebird**

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/

For humanity, the galaxy is huge and life is short.  
In the vast void, full of specks of stars, space is endless.  
It exist to escape into, from what's behind us, even from itself.

But fate is a weird thing. The galaxy isn't simply held together by gravity.  
The past doesn't stay in the past.  
All the future is built on actions past.  
For when what comes around, goes around  
It hits hard.

But don't be surprise.  
We always see it coming.  
Because that's fate,  
And fate... is on our side...

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

* * *

 **Part 1:**

 **President Bowman and Admiral Roland - Elysium - Hours into the Skyllian Blitz  
June 1, 2167 12:00:00 UTC**

"Ugly four eyed bastard…"

Bowman chuckled, "A bit of an understatement."

In a private conference room on the _Sol's Gleam_ , Roland sat down and stared at the holo-image of the race he had fought only hours ago. As a scale model of a male Batarian slowly rotated on table, Bowman and Grissom sat across from him, while General Williams and Admiral Darya joined in, streaming via their own holoavatars.

Roland leaned over the table and stared at the metadata below the Batarian, "Naval Intelligence: Date: July 23, 2131. This information… its date stamp nearly forty years ago."

Grissom sat up in his seat, "It is."

Bowman responded, seeing that Roland was clearly confused by the statement, enough that he wasn't getting what it implied. He stood up and walked to the holo projector.

"Today, everyone will consider this day to be day we made First Contact. When Humanity, the Terran people, found other life in the galaxy. Peace, incident, and war on the same day." He typed on the control, changing the hologram to a model of his old ship, the _Excalibur_. "We know better than that."

"So these Batarians... This isn't the first time we encountered them?"

They all looked to Bowman, who looked around the room. He took a deep breath and sighed before continuing.

"You remember the expedition of the early thirties?"

Roland nodded, "Of course. I was assigned to the Jupiter Research Station as a lieutenant when they launched the _Excalibur_. I was the officer to dock your ship after the Skyllian Incident."

"But do you know what that was?"

"The official report was a nebula storm. Several crew members lost from a hull breach."

Bowman stood up and leaned over to the table. As he stared at the ship he once commanded, the memories of what he saw filled his head. His breathing became more pronounced, before he reached for glass of water. After a quick drink, he continued, "We were on a survey mission, exploring the mass relays of the Verge. My ship was delayed at Eden Prime, so Grissom beat me to Elysium first. My ship was sent deeper instead through the southern relays."

"And they go where?"

Bowman sat down and pointed at the hologram, "Straight into the heart of the Batarian Hegemony."

Roland sat up in his seat, "So that was First Contact? How they knew we existed?"

Bowman turned to the others. They all knew what happened. But it was Bowman's mission. He answered, with hesitation in his voice, "Yes. The first time… we actually encountered another civilization…" The others took notice. They lied once about what happened. Bowman just lied again, but the truth simply didn't matter right now.

"If they knew we existed, why didn't we see them again until after we found that 'Council'?"

"Simple, Roland. I made sure to erase as much evidence we existed, that..." Bowman paused mid-sentence, now in deep thought. The other flag officers were quick to take the cue of what was going on. Bowman seemed paralyzed for a moment, his breathing through his nose heavy as he leaned on the table.

"That…That…"

Darya spoke out, "I think it's best if we move on to your new assignment Ro…"

"No!" He pushed off the desk and continued, "We surged through the relays and discovered a minor colony they had, several relays from their end of the Skyllian Verge. A dozen ships approached us. Before we could contact them, they attacked and boarded my ship as we were crippled."

The projector changed to a captured holographically captured image of the boarding, several Batarian raiders going through the blown out docking port as Bowman, Lieutenant Pierce, and Sargent Goyle tried to hold them off.

"They were too much… They raided a quarter of the ship, including engineering, and captured over a dozen of my crew before we broke off and hid in a nearby asteroid belt…" Bowman slammed his fist against the table, "I wasn't going to leave them behind!"

Roland looked at him, "So what did you do, sir?"

"I… I readied the ship. Attacked with what was once the might of the Terran fleet. There were a hundred ships over orbit, but we learned from the last engagement that we had the ordnances, the antimatter missiles to take them on." He sat down and looked at what was now an image of his ship over the Batarian colony. "In hindsight, it was clearly a suicide mission. I was about to sacrifice my ship and crew for vengeance. But then we got a hail… more of a distress message from the planet."

"Your crew?"

"Uh… no."

"Then who could it have been?"

The projector changed into a full image of the planet in question. He turned to look, but was quick to continue. "This is Aratoht, based on recovered records. A barely inhabitable world. Like putting Mount Everest in an oven, hot and thin. We snuck through the magnetic pole and landed a shuttle at the outskirts of a small colonial city. Apparently, news of the battle earlier had made its way to the colony below."

"An unknown race just discovered one of their colonies," said Roland.

"And destroyed over ten of their cruisers before being disabled, and more _after_. The news got to a group of slaves and they took it as a cue it was part of a liberation force and escaped," Bowman pondered for a moment, rolling his fingers on the table before he continued. "We were not what she expected."

"She?"

"An Asari, I believe that was what their race was called. She was the one who led the escaped slaves. Her name was…"

"Dorsi, sir," said Scott through the table intercom. A new imaged appeared with the Asari and the away team meeting in a small thicket of woods outside the colony premises.

"Yes, yes. Thank you, Scott. Uh… the others were slave miners. She was used for… other purposes by her owners. Fortunately, she had a detailed layout of the small colony and she agreed to help us find my captured crewmembers. They had a 'processing' facility on the… the…"

Bowman stopped again and stood still for a moment. He then dropped his head and held on to it with his hands as he rested on the table. His breathing became pronounced, his eyes wide open and pupils slowly dilated as he clenched his face.

Roland rose to interrupt and change the topic. For a man of his age, Bowman did well to keep himself calm and control his reactions to his traumatic triggers. Bowman's once high profile exploration mission was now a state secret. His fame for what was known though had made him a household name. Roland wasn't too surprise by the great secret that was being told to him. He, to his discomfort, wasn't surprised to see Bowman's reaction either. Trained in an era when the human psyche was as critical to treat as any alien virus, Roland was quick to notice what was happening.

"Sir… may we continued with my debriefing?"

Bowman turned to him, his eyes possessing a manic light, "Debriefing?" He stood up and yelled, "Do you know what those fucking savages did to them, your fellow humans? Twelve hours before they were my crew, my comrades… My friends and my responsibility. They tortured them, broke them, destroyed their God given humanity! I couldn't save them… Park, Keating, Billingsley, Armstrong, Blalock, Culp, Winston, Horan, Waymire, Berman, Braga… Connor. I couldn't save any of them. There was nothing to save…"

Bowman looked to Roland, who simply looked back, trying to avoid eye contact. Bowman continued, a bit calmer, but his voice still heavy with anger and remorse.

"We left with the escaped slaves. As we left, I looked down on that forsaken hellhole. I wasn't going to let them continue doing what they did! They had to pay for what they did! I intended to make sure no one else suffered on that planet…" He stared at Roland for a short bit, then a grin emerged as he breathed heavily through his teeth. "Do you know how to rig a spatial torpedo."

"Rig, sir?"

He chuckled, "Antimatter isn't really useful as an explosive on its own. Without massatainium, matter annihilation is nothing more than a light show of gamma rays. But if it's refined, properly handled, you can destroy ships with ease, or wipe a whole planet out… And I did just that." A final imaged played, a simulation of the planet after several overpowered torpedoes, filled with the ship's antimatter fuel, struck the planet from the _Excalibur_. Several massive explosions rang out on the surface. They merged together into fiery blast and encompassed and burned the planet clean. "They never knew what hit them. Any of them… For those we couldn't save, it was a merciful death. For those four eyed savages… it was too merciful a death. Dorsi and her group, the look on their faces when they saw what my little ship, my race from some insignificant blue dot could do…" He took another deep breath as he looked down, a tear from his eye dropping.

"And them? What of those slaves? They're all Council races."

"Dorsi told me of a place they could be safe and continue their journey. Before we left them on a planet the Asari occasionally visited, far from the Hegemony or the current boundaries of the Federation, they insisted on knowing who we were. I refused to tell them."

"We could have made Contact with the Council over thirty years ago!" said Roland, shocked by what he quickly realized was the obvious conclusion Bowman was leading to on purpose. "This changes our history. The last forty years would have been different."

"The Batarians would have known then of who we were, where we were! Do you think the Council would have protected us for wiping out that colony? They sure as hell don't care for the damn Quarians, the Krogan, or their own people. We were not a power then…"

Roland simply stared at him and sighed, "But I guess we are now."

"We didn't know exactly who the Council really was. All we knew was that there were a lot to the galaxy we didn't know. We were lucky. We had a quarter of the galaxy to ourselves. Forty years ago, a barely united Humanity had little to its name and a handful of metal it called a fleet. But we built our fleets, solidified our nation, bled for experience from the Great Revival." Bowman looked to the holo projector and changed it to a galactic map of the Hegemony. "Now we are a super power. When the first humans looked to the stars, they dreamt of the possibilities out there. What we have only realized now was that all of human history was to ready for _that possibility_. Darya?"

She turned to Roland and typed some instructions on a keyboard at her end. Roland's watch lit up with an alert of a message. He opened his military watch.

"This, Andrew, is your assignment. Operation Skyfall. The full military invasion, and conquest of the Batarians."

Bowman nodded, "Right now, the Quarians don't know whether we are the might we claim to be. The Council, from our best guess, is sitting on its ass wondering who are the aliens they captured."

Roland spoke out, "The _Clark_ wasn't destroyed?"

"Hardly. Their AI hacked the FTL commsystem to get us a message. The Batarians, however, know very well who we are now. They saw the _Clark_ and finally put two and two together." He slammed his fist on the table once more, "Roland, make them pay for it!"

He stood and saluted him. "Yes sir..."

Bowman turned to him, noticing his mouth slightly opened as he hesitated, "Yes, Roland?"

"The Asari, Dorsi. The others. They knew we existed. Why didn't they report our existence? The Council would have surely sent an exploration fleet to find us. The relays go both ways."

Bowman thought about it for a moment. The others had never thought about it as well. It never happened to cross their minds, but they thought once more, and decided they just did not want to think of it any longer. The past was the past.

"Maybe they were thankful. We made it clear when we withheld who we were that we didn't want to be found."

Roland looked at them, unsure to make of the answer, but couldn't derive a better one, "I see, sir."

"When I saved them… To save them at the very least… You learn to appreciate what good you can do. But you're not one ship. You have a fleet. Now it's your turn, for the galaxy now knows who we are. The 'liberation' of the Hegemony is on your hands. Make the Qurians realize our might, make the Council fear our might, and make the Batarians feel our might…" He arched forward for a moment, tired. He then waved him off, "You're dismissed."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

Roland left the room, ready to head back to his own ship as he began to read the operation plan. Bowman turned back to the others, who stood up to address him.

Darya spoke first, "Jonathan, are you alright?"

He paused, his arms crossed and his back towards them before he turned around and answer, "Yes… no. What does it matter?"

"Our Commander-in-Chief should be able to lead the nation," said Grissom.

"And I am able. But I'm not going to waste my time on the war. Darya, Williams, watch over Roland."

"Yes sir… so war it is then?"

"There's no other option."

Grissom asked next, "But what if the Batarians prove capable enough to stop us, what if the Council joins in? We need our fleet to…"

"To what, Jon? Stop some damn monsters from space? We are doing that right now!"

"Now Bowman. That isn't what we meant," said Williams, more composed than the others as he calmly smiled at them.

"We won't win. Not with what we have. We need the whole galaxy… Yes, the whole galaxy."

"Mr. President?"

"Make sure Section 14 is ready. No damn screw ups from your end."

Williams smiled and nodded, "We never fail, sir. Everything… is according to plan…"

Bowman clenched his forehead and shook his head, "I see what Pierce meant now."

Williams' holo disappeared, leaving the three former explorers in the room. They gave each other a silent look.

"Set course for Arcturus. I want the _Clark_ back."

"Yes sir. And the Quarians?"

He waved it off, "That's Kennedy's job."

"Isn't he…"

"Damn, right. I don't want Williams involved... Inform the Speaker of this. I'm calling in a favor."

Grissom nodded and left the room as Bowman walked over to the viewport.

"This is it, huh Anna?"

She crossed her arms and looked out the viewport with him, "Yes, it is Jonathan. But at least it isn't our secret anymore."

Bowman gave short chuckle, "But there is always more... Addressing the people to this is going to be hard."

"I'll leave you to it then, Mr. President. But let me know if you need anything."

He sighed, "I wish the others were still here. I still miss Connor."

"We all do… But let's make sure he didn't die in vain." She walked away, her hologram fading off.

As the rest of the Sol Fleet began to make its way back to Earth, he thought to himself. There was no turning back. This was First Contact. He knew who he was supposed to be fighting for. And it certainly wasn't who he wanted to fight.

He whispered to himself, one hand in his pocket as he leaned the other on the transparent aluminum glass.

"So the galaxy is now ours for the taking… If the Prothean race couldn't stop them… I'll be damned if the Terran People suffer the same fate."

* * *

 **Part 2:**

 **Marcus Junius - Camala - Day Five of the Skyllian Blitz  
June 5, 2167 08:00:00**

Junius entered the dining room, with a large dish platter of gourmet food in each talon. He walked, straight and upright, towards the dining table, where four Batarians were sitting, waiting for their brunch to arrive. At the head of the table leading them was the famed aristocratic Edan Had'dah. Sitting to his left near the stain glass windows of their manor was his wife Galo, and to his right his young son of eight galactic years, Relile. Next to Relile was a visiting guest of Edan, a Hegemony political officer by the name of Markov Dov'tok. Junius set the two main dishes on the table as he grabbed Relile's cloth napkin to tie it around his neck, the kid shimmying about in defiance.

Edan turned to his son and scolded him; a deep, harsh tone in his voice, "Relile! Stop fidgeting and let him place that napkin on you!"

"No! I don't want to wear it. I don't need a bib!" said the small boy, slapping away Junius's talons.

Junius turned to Edan, "Master, should I continue trying to…"

"Damn it, Marcus. Put the damn napkin on the kid, now!" Junius nodded and forced his talons in, tucking the napkin into the collar. Relile pouted some more, until his father, his head leaned to his right as a show of dominance, slapped him across the face. "You will behave in front of the guest!"

Relile, in tears and still mad all the while, relented. "Yes Father."

Edan turned to Dov'tok, his head now leaned to his left, "My apologies Commissar Dov'tok. Raising kids can be difficult." He said with a lighter tone to defuse the situation.

"Please, say no more. Reminds me of my own children," said Dov'tok with a friendlier tone. "So, what is this meal we have before us today?"

Edan turned to Junius, "Marcus, what have the kitchen prepared for us today?"

Junius replied, his body straight and his talons behind him as he looked to the four of them, standing between the kid and the guest. He made sure to keep his own head tilted left, as to not offend them. His tone was kept low to maintain his submissiveness as he did his best to give the food an elegant description. "Well Master Had'dah, the chef has prepared two dishes." He lifted his hand to gesture to the first dish, "First is the fine cut meat roast from the Egalian Wild Beast of Anhur, cooked to medium well, and spiced with the finest and rarest peppers from Erinle, as the master prefers." Junius turned to the second dish. "Our second dish for Master's brunch is of the delicious and nutritious variety, freshly imported vegetables from the Ravtorian home world, picked from the organic farms no less than five galactic hours ago to be rushed straight here for your consumption. They have been lightly steamed and served with a side dish of Batarian fruit oil for flavoring."

"I was told you enjoyed the fresh produce of the Ravtorians," said Edan.

"Why yes, I do," replied Dov'tok, "Very healthy. Trade restriction by the Council has made it hard to get them though. I am amazed you got them, especially so fresh."

Edan chuckled, "I have my connections."

"The last time I ate this was when we still had an embassy on Palaven. This is certainly a treat."

Edan gestured them to start. Junius and the two Asari maids moved in, slicing the meat and going from person to person to hand out cuts and vegetables to each plate. As Relile refused to eat his vegetables, Edan spoke, "The Council are idiots! They show no respect for the Hegemony and the Batarian race! They ignore us and refuse to aid us."

"Ha, I cannot agree with you more."

"May I ask something, Commissar?"

"Please feel free," said Dov'tok as he grabbed his utensils and began to eat.

"I have heard rumors of this 'war' going on in the outer corners of the Hegemony. I hope you don't mind if I inquire on the matter?" asked Edan as he grabbed a fork and knife to cut his roast slice.

Dov'tok laughed a bit, before he forked a clump of vegetables to eat, "The war is of minor concern."

"But there is a war?"

Dov'tok chuckled and then turned to him, "I'll let you in on a secret."

Edan leaned over in deep interest, "Yes?"

"Well, this new, undiscovered race has apparently had the gall to attack us! Can you believe that?"

"It's quite hard. An undiscovered race?"

"Yes, the same race whose ship was captured by the Council days earlier."

"So the war then?"

Dov'tok took a bite from his plate before answering, "Ha! The Council shall reward us once we put them down."

Edan snapped his fingers, prompting Junius to pour a glass of Hanar liquor in his and Dov'tok's glasses. "Then a toast to the Hegemony's victory!"

Dov'tok picked his glass up as well and toasted, "Ah yes… Hegemony victory. Which reminds me of what I am here for."

"Please. What is it you wish to ask of me for?" asked Edan.

"Well, several Hegemony military flag officers shall be stopping here on Camala tonight before heading out with the first fleet. I was informed you were a man of… great taste."

"Say no more. I shall be more than willing to host a banquet to our fighting men before they head out to quell the enemies of the Hegemony. The finest in food, drinks, and entertainment!"

Dov'tok nodded to him, "That takes care of that then. Thank you Mr. Had'dah."

As they all continued to eat, the slave servants stood against the wall opposite the windows, standing straight and looking ahead forward. Dressed in somewhat formal attire, they remained silent and awaited orders. Junius shrugged in his mind though, now knowing he, the head house slave, would have to arrange the party his master wanted. It wasn't the first time though, since Edan had entertained both political and business guests in the past. He had already begun planning what to do.

 _The upstairs parlor room would be the best place to hold their recreation after the dinner, private and with plenty of room. I assume that the Commissar will supply a list of preferred dishes each of the officers will want. If I can get it by midday, Perwan and his staff can have the dishes ready by tonight. Asari honey wine and Hanar hard liquor would be the best choice in refreshments, we have plenty of it anyway in the cellar. Master Had'dah also keeps a special storage of narcotics from the Terminus. If they're actually fighting another war, I can be sure they would not mind taking some. They could be dead the next day. Which leads to the 'entertainment'. I will need to possibly check with Dov'tok as to the officers' sexual preferences. Spirits, I only hope none of them wants an old, battered, ninety-year-old Turian._

Junius noticed that Relile was refusing to eat his food, his mother nodding to him. As he walked over to try and feed him himself, Edan noticed and turned to Dov'tok.

"You mentioned you had children, Commissar?" asked Edan.

"Yes, a son myself," said Dov'tok as he finished his plate. "A former commander in the fleet."

"A respectable position." He took a drink from his glass.

"Yes… That was about thirty years ago."

"Oh, so he has advanced since?"

"He has been dead since."

Edan leaned over again, "My apologies… If I may ask…"

"He was killed… in the battle of Philippi… He had just earned the rank of commander." He turned to Junius to his immediate left, whom had knelt down to Relile's height. Dov'tok gave him a calm, but intense look as Junius pleaded with Relile to eat his food, holding the fork up as Relile looked away.

Edan quickly understood the connection of Dov'tok's stare at Junius. Edan turned to him as well, his four black bread eyes staring straight into Junius'.

"Marcus!"

Junius placed the fork down and stood up, "Yes Master! Is there something you need?"

"Marcus. It would be best you leave the room. Now."

"Yes Master."

Junius bowed to his Batarian masters and guest, and began to make his way to the door into the kitchen. As they all stared to him, Edan spoke.

"And Marcus, start preparing the banquet, would you please?"

"Of course Master Had'dah. It shall be done."

He walked through the open hinge door and into the kitchen, where several Salarian chefs where buzzing about, working on the planned dishes for the afternoon. As soon as the door closed, sound proof to block noise from the kitchen, Junius dropped his posture, tired and exhausted. He grabbed a tablet from a nearby shelf and proceeded to conduct his rounds, his talons shaking from his old age.

Junius was the head house slave. For the past fifteen years of his many years in bondage, he was the man Edan depended on to ensure the coordination of his household and slaves. Before however, he was once a slave miner, spending decades underground until he was bought by Edan during his survey for Logasiri. By then, Junius was a shattered Turian. As the head house slave, he made sure to have every person in line. But while most house slaves would view their master with reverence for the regularly better quality of life a working slave would experience, Junius knew better. He knew of life as a free and powerful man of his own right. Here, he did what he could. He made life for the others more bearable, a fair but strict man. What else could he do, he thought. He had little else to live for.

After inspecting the chefs and the servants, he left the kitchen and entered from the back into the main foyer of the manor, a large open hall with a main staircase in the middle leading to the second floor, across from the large front doors. They were open, as a Turian and a Batarian, both slaves themselves, were repairing the frame of the doors, dressed in basic grey jumpsuits. Junius walked over as two of Edan's guards stood nearby at the entrance into the parlor.

Both turned to him and stood up to greet him as he walked over. The Batarian Calya Kab'fab spoke, "Mr. Junius, sir."

"Calya, Satorius. Is the door frame nearly fixed?" asked Junius as he nodded to each in turn.

"The frame itself has been successfully installed. Just need to have it sanded down and painted," replied Satorius Melchan.

"Good. Please have it done by the end of the next hour. Master Had'dah shall be having a banquet for the Hegemony's flag officers, before they leave with the fleet to stop some war going on."

"A banquet, you say?" asked Calya, "I am guessing the master is going to entertain them with the usual?"

"If you mean imported liquor, Terminus drugs, and sex slaves, you guessed right. Have the house slaves ready and report here in two hours time for the updated evening duty roster."

"So the brunch went well then?" asked Satorius.

"I can only hope so, Satorius. Master Had'dah's guest… I don't think he took a liking to me."

"Oh, how so?" asked Calya.

He turned back to the tablet, "I might have killed his son. But that's beside the point. Have everything I said ready, understood?"

"Yes Mr. Junius."

Satorius leaned over to Calya's ear, "I bet Seiteia and Alulsa get 'assigned' to the officers. I heard their performances haven't been good lately."

Junius looked back over and yelled at him, "Satorius! How dare you make such tasteless comments?" He lifted his tablet up and began searching through, "Your own performance isn't on the high end either. I would be careful of such words. You're still young enough to be found rather attractive by the Batarians… You wouldn't want that."

He stood back in attention, "My apologies, Mr. Junius, sir!"

"Now, finish up here and gather up everyone. I need…"

From the side living room, to which the dining room was connected to, Relile came running out. He shouted as he ran pass them, pretending to shoot them with his hands.

"Bang! Bang! You're dead!"

As he ran upstairs, his mother came out of the room as well and walked to Junius.

"Mr. Junius. Please care for Relile."

"I would Madam. But I still need to make my rounds for today."

She sighed, now irritated, "Marcus, attend to the boy, now!"

"Yes Madam, I shall do so immediately."

She made a small squawk at him and walked off into the parlor on the other side of the manor, the two Asari maids following closely behind her.

"I shall be attending to the little brat." He turned around and placed the tablet into his coat's pocket as he walked to the stairs. "Master Relile, where are you?"

As he climbed up the stairs, he looked back to see Edan and Dov'tok enter the foyer from the living room. Junius turned forward and continued up the stairs as Edan scolded the two below over the work on the doorframe. As he turned and entered the hallway above, he could hear as Edan kicked both of them to the ground, before he activated his omnitool to trigger pain receptors with the cranial implants in their heads. As they screamed in agony, Junius saw Relile at the end of the hallway upstairs and ran to him.

* * *

 **Part 3:**

 **General Williams and Admiral Averil - Hegemony Space - Day Five of the Skyllian Blitz  
June 5, 2167 08:00:00**

Across the void, the fleet of the 'English Lion' made its way through the Hegemony. The Terran humans' first intragalactic war had been going far better than anyone could have expected. In terms of combat, the Navy, its detachment of Marines, and the Army in tow had seen a relative degree of combat before the war. But nearly all of it was fighting small rebel colonies on the fringes of Federation space, or against the great uprising on the home world. Naturally, none of the flag officers had seen combat against an entirely foreign power. Many of the younger ones hadn't seen live combat at all, relying on war games for some leadership experience.

But for the Terrans' baptism through fire, in the fight that would cement the young but powerful military for decades to come; the war with the Batarian Hegemony would be the fight that would elevate the Terrans onto the galactic stage.

Even before their decline, the Hegemony was never a strong power. In spite of nearly a thousand years on the galactic stage, their totalitarian government had brutally crippled itself and the Batarian race. The last war they fought was with the Turians, which was considered a laughable one-sided affair. The loss of their famed admiral in the only battle the Hegemony could claim as an actual victory being the only real loss the Turians experienced. Since then, economic sanctions by other Council races had made it a hollowed version of its former self.

For the Terrans, it would be referred to as being the right war at the right time. By 2167, the Hegemony had fielded a surprising large fleet, by Council standards, of nearly ten thousand ships, but a vastly inflated number at that as most were dangerously outdated and should have been decommissioned since before the war with the Turians. By comparison, the Terrans' ships were fresh off the fleet yards of Mars and Terra Nova. The humans' industrial might allowed a huge yield of new, advanced ships. If somehow the war had occurred a few years later, the Terran military would have collapsed from the expenditure.

But now, its military was at its peak, its economy booming as the recent victories created the desperately needed political justification for the decades' long buildup, and with a far weaker enemy to fight; its clear victory over the Hegemony would strike a powerful first impression onto the galaxy.

The first few days of the Second Fleet's Operation Skyfall was nothing but complete victory for the Terrans. Moving ahead of the Third and Fourth Army that had been called up to occupy captured territory, Roland's fleet swept through Batarian space in the Skyllian Verge. As the news from the frontline paid extra attention to the horror of the revelation that slavery existed on the galactic scale, it gave military command the opportunity to turn the fight into a war of liberation; his fleet being pressed ever greater in locating the numerous colonies of the Batarians as the people at home rallied in support. Following their constant training, the Marines would be deployed in search and rescue operations to free the slaves. After freeing the slaves and destroying any significant tool of resistance, a squadron of ships locked the planet down as the fleet moved on, waiting for the Army to land for proper occupation.

But in randomly chosen colonies, the Military Command of the Federation gave a green light for Roland to do what the Citadel Council would later consider a blatant war crime, but a testament to the Terrans' brutal form of liberation. As soon as the slave and low caste population was evacuated, his ships would kinetically nuke the planet as a message to the Hegemony leaders on Khar'shan that the Terrans were an enemy to be deeply feared.

With the Batarian fleet swept away by Roland's ten thousand ships, they quickly arrived in the Kite's Nest, the home star cluster of the Batarians. With the Hegemony's secretiveness the rest of the galaxy, until long after the fact, would not know of the fall of their last cluster. To all those who lived on the worlds in it, the fall wouldn't be known until they saw it with their own eyes.

As Roland's flotilla of two thousand went about to secure the Harsa system, the Fourth Army on board and ready to descend on Khar'shan, a flotilla of ships splintered off to secure the rest of the cluster. As a few of those ships made their way to the Indris system, Marine Admiral Averil on the FSS _Harpers Ferry_ , BCCC-1859, sat at his desk in his ready room, looking over the data on his desk console for the invasion of Camala and Batarian's Kaver Defense Station.

A chime played.

"Yes, come in."

The doors slid open, a man entering his office, dressed in the Terran Army dress uniform of navy blue, similar to the Navy and Marine uniform, but with olive green contrast to indicate Army, unlike the silver or white contrast from the other branches respectively. As standard, it only held the ribbons of his awards, capped at the top six on his left chest. Around his neck was the chain to his cross, tucked under his shirt collar. His hair was black, but with many white streaks from age and stress, and he had a scar cut down through his right eye from one of his battles during the Revival. Opposite of the navy's version, his rank insignia was on his right collar, a silver hollow bar with four silver stars. Averil stood up to saluted him, his guest's rank being higher and the fact he was a Star of Terra recipient.

"General Williams."

"Admiral Averil," Williams saluted back and sat down. "May I inquire on our progress?"

"Of course, Williams," Averil sat down and grabbed a tablet and swiped it near his console to transfer data onto it. He then handed it to Williams. "As you can see, we'll be in the system proper in a few hours. My Marines will lead the opening descent onto Camala, creating a beachhead for your third Army."

"Excellent. No major obstacles for your ships?" asked Williams.

"The Batarians have ships over the planet, but nothing we can't destroy," responded Averil as he reached for his coffee mug, "Have you read up on Camala?"

He answered, continuing to read off the tablet, "Not yet. I was still in a meeting with LeBeau for the landing of the Fourth Army on Khar'shan."

"The planet is a major commercial hub. Rich in massatanium, or the aliens call it, uh…"

Williams looked his eyes up to him, "Element zero, Averil."

"Of course, yes... 'element zero'. The planet is populated more in the way of free skilled laborers than in slaves."

Williams chuckled as he placed the tablet down on his lap, a blinking light on both it and Averil's console flashing dimly in sync for a second before turning off. "And when we come marching in, they'll bask in the might of the Terran nation. They'll either return to the greater galaxy to tell others of us, or they might join up with us. We could always use the extra skilled labor force."

Averil groaned, "Yes… they could do that… And I was told I will have these…Qu… Quar…"

"Quarian, that's not a hard word to pronounce, Averil."

"Still, why am I being told their Marines will be integrated into my own?"

Williams sighed, "Their admirals have given us a Marine battalion to fight our immediate war as a token for helping them. Having experienced alien troops fighting with our own will allow us to analyze the integration of our military. Besides, if someone offers you fifty thousand ships, you sure as hell don't say no."

Averil picked up a tablet and waved it, "Yes, but have you read what the Batarian's codex says about them? Beggars? Thieves! They're like… space gypsies!"

Williams was quickly enraged as he stood up and pointed at him, "Don't be a fuckin' hypocrite, Renaud. You're of Romani decent for Christ's sake! If you're going to judge them, do it on their performance, not one what a bunch of slavers said about them."

"Well…ah damn, fine. I'll trust you on this, sir."

"Good," Williams sat back down and continued reading. "Now then, Camala's fall will ensure our greater logistical dominance in the region. Just to be sure though, we have agents ready to aid in the capture."

"Agents, sir?"

"A resistance movement against the Hegemony government. The Federal Intelligence Agency claims to have made contact with their cells when we began our blitz into their territory."

"So they claim to have an agent cell on Camala."

Williams chuckled, "They're not as organized as they make themselves out to be. But if they succeed here, Camala shall be wide open to attack."

"Do you have any suggestions to the offensive plans? Alteration?" asked Averil.

"Continue as planned. No need to risk our invasion force if they fail. But be ready, as always."

"Of course, sir."

Williams stood up, "I'll meet with you again once we're ground side." He walked to the door, but turned back with a thought, "And if you steal my clothes and discover they fit you, you better not wear them!" He then laughed as the doors opened.

As he left the room, an alert displayed on his console. Averil checked his room for a quick moment. After making sure no one else was there, he answered.

"Averil. How goes our illustrious general?" asked a voice, deeply pitched and digitally altered.

"Williams has taken the aid from the Batarian resistance. He doesn't hold high hopes, but he will be in observation if they can help take Camala. He is also interested in seeing the performance of the suit rats in our assault."

The voice spoke, "Why he would take any alien's help is… unsettling. Though the colony is one of the richest and most fortified, we are more than able take it without any alien help."

Averil drank from his coffee mug and continued, "Williams is a pragmatic person. He does what is necessary to win."

"He is of an older generation, blinded by the ideals. We all live to serve humanity. But with First Contact…"

"Yes, I know… let Williams be. In the end, Section 14 has only to gain from all this."

"And thus, we shall make sure that humanity, the Terran race, does as well."

* * *

 _"'Let Williams be', huh?"_ He thought as he watched the communication feed on a holo screen on his watch, as his elevator descended down to the nearest shuttle bay. _"Well Averil, you're right about one thing. Section 14 and humanity shall stand to gain from this… I'll make damn sure of it."_

He adjusted his uniform coat and weapon holster, where his sidearm was. Holstered was his antique Peacemaker revolver, an ivory handle with an engraving from more than two hundred years ago. He chuckled as he turned off his watch, before he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall to contemplate. The elevator then stopped, opening into the lower levels.

* * *

 **Part 4:**

 **Marcus Junius - Camala  
June 5, 2167 12:00:00 UTC**

Edan Had'dah was an aristocrat by birth, but he made his largest fortune in the past years with the colonization of Camala. Rich in element zero, the planet's colonization by his company made him far more powerful, allowing him to move his family to the planet itself. As custom for a Batarian of his status, he was a slaveholder. But the dry climate and industry intense economy placed greater emphases on a skilled, and thus free, labor force, which opened up the remote colony to skilled workers across the galaxy for a short time, until the Council placed sanctions against that as well. But for the rich and powerful on this planet, their own personal oasis, its forced workers were truly a symbol of that status. Edan's prized slave, Marcus Junius, and the rest catered to his whim, and his wealth to afford such assets and luxury on a planet like Camala was clear to all.

Under the staircase in the main foyer was a large open passage way. It was here, out of sight from Edan and his guest, that the head house slave directed the others on their daily assignments. Once more, as Edan prepared himself in his private quarters, his wife Galo took her afternoon nap, and Relile played in his room upstairs, the servants gathered, waiting their assignments. Junius leaned against the wall directly underneath the staircase, as the fifteen house slaves lined up along the wall opposite him, facing the front of the house.

He noticed two of the slaves, Edan's pet Quarians, were missing.

"Calya, where are Kemm and Yana?"

He took a step forward from the line of servants, "Mr. Junius. The last time I saw them, they were being used by Master Had'dah."

"I see… I shall begin the assignment of duty for Master Had'dah's banquet," He rolled off the wall and took out his tablet, where he kept his daily plans and duty roster. "Master Had'dah will be hosting a banquet for seven Hegemony Flag officers tonight! So I have gathered you here to assign your duties for tonight. First, Hegemony Commissar Dov'tok has supplied me with a list of the type of meals the officers wish to partake in. Perwan!"

The Salarian chef took a step forward from the line, "Yes Mr. Junius?"

"I have sent you a list of the dishes to be served tonight. If the food manifest is correct, we should have all the ingredients in stock."

"Yes sir. My team can have them cooked and ready."

Junius nodded to him and he stepped back. He then called on Tarme, the eldest Asari owned by Edan. She walked up and stood next to him as he continued.

"The Commissar has also supplied Master Had'dah, and thus us, a list of the type of 'companion' each officer would like for the night," he handed over his tablet to Tarme, a memo from Edan on the guests' desires, "Tarme, I believe this would be of your expertise."

She spoke, with the calm and grace of a matriarch. At seven hundred, she was certainly old enough to be one. "Of course Mr. Junius. How else could you whore off Master's servants?"

He grunted, extending his mandibles out before contracting them back in, "You say that with… disturbing calmness every time he hosts these kinds of parties."

"You have been a slave for over thirty years, I have for five hundred. Instructing them to use their bodies for the master's sexual lust is no different than telling them to use it to clean a room."

Tarme began to read the information on the tablet, as the slaves stood against the wall, awaiting to hear which of them would be selected. Junius looked at her as she calmly read, occasionally looking up to see the servants as she hummed.

She gave the tablet back to Junius and called out the names of her selection, "Yeil, As'sau, Seiteia, Fatavio, Lodin, and Talsa."

Two Asaris, a female Turian, a male Turian, a male Vaxerion, and a female Drell took a step forward from the line.

"You shall be assigned to the Hegemony officers. Please head to your quarters and clean yourselves up."

After a short pause, they all acknowledged the order and proceeded down the hall at the left end of the wall, leading to the servants' quarters at the back of the manor. Junius looked to her.

"There are seven officers arriving tonight, Tarme."

She turned to him, still speaking in her calm, refined tone, "I am aware. If you'll excuse me Mr. Junius. I need to prepare myself as well."

"I see."

As she left herself, Junius gave his last assignment. "Calya, Satorius, you're with me. I need to find where the Master's pets have gone to. Everyone else, have the dining room, the parlor room upstairs, and the guest rooms cleaned and prepared. Then report to Perwan."

"Yes Mr. Junius!"

Calya and Satorius walked over to Junius as the rest of servants split off, half heading to the kitchen to prepare the dining room while the others began to head to a small servant's stairs near their quarters to begin cleaning.

"Mr. Junius, is there somewhere you wish to begin searching?" asked Satorius.

His arms were crossed, tapping his mandible with his talons as he thought. "I was just upstairs… they must be outside. Let's go."

They began to walk around the staircase, Calya running over to open the front door for Junius, though he then let go of it at Satorius to annoy him. In the first floor parlor, Dov'tok noticed them leaving as he sat and enjoyed his tea.

* * *

"Look at it, holding its breath," said one of Edan's henchmen.

The other henchmen leaned over to the Quarian, "You're going to have to breathe eventually, and when you do..."

Kemm and Yana sat next to each other, huddled up on the ground in the corner of a tool shed at the corner wall of Edan's manor estate. Two of Edan's henchman huddled up above them. One had Kemm's face mask, the other, a cattle prod. All the while, Kemm's face was slowly turning in color from a light purple to an alarming shade a violet.

"You monsters! Give him back his face plate!"

"Shut up you bitch!" The henchman jabbed her with the cattle prod, electrocuting her. He then pulled back, laughing as she screamed from the pain as the electricity circulated through her suit before she leaned her head against the wall to cry. "This is your fault your rat friend here is in this situation. Running your mouth." He then kicked her in the stomach, forcing her back up before she collapsed on to the ground.

Kemm opened his mouth, "Yana!"

The first Batarian henchman picked him up, before punching him straight in the face, shoving his head into the back of his helmet. Kemm was propelled back, slamming into the wall before he fell to the ground as well, landing on Yana. He quickly rolled off her, moaning in pain as he breathed heavily.

"Look Davus, the rat finally decided to breath," said the second Batarian henchman.

The first one walked over and leaned down to look at Kemm, his breathing heavy as he began to cough.

"You poor, stupid suit rat," He grabbed Kemm's helmet and twisted it so he looked over to Yana, softly crying to herself. He then twisted it back to him, "Don't worry. That rat bitch will live, but you'll pay for her mistake.

He then spat on Kemm's face and stood up. He walked over to a clearing in the shed and dropped his mask on the ground. Kemm wiped his face and leaned on his arm to look over to what the Batarian was doing.

"I wonder how long it will last?" asked the second one.

The first looked over to Kemm, "I bet the rat is wondering also!"

He lifted his foot over the mask, Kemm's grey eyes widening as he coughed.

"Davus! No'tol!"

The two Batarians both turned to see Junius, standing at the doorframe.

"Marcus! Uh, what are you doing here?" asked Davus.

Junius turned his eyes to the two Quarians on the ground, "What the hell are you doing with Master Had'dah's… pets?"

"These two suit rats? We're doing what Mr. Had'dah wanted. The bitch here talked back to him, so he told us to punish them."

Junius shook his head, "If the master said punish, he sure as hell did not mean for you idiots to kill them!"

"Oh come on Marcus. You of all people hate these… things."

"I-I… Master Had'dah spent millions of credits building up the clean facilities for his pets. Now get out and let me fix this."

"Or what?" asked No'tol, the second of the pair, as they both turned to face Junius.

"Or? Or I'll tell how two of his lowly henchman killed his million credit plus assets! Spirits only know what he'll do to you two if that happens."

Both of them suddenly tensed up, equally fearful of their employer as the slaves were. They both looked to each other and nodded in agreement.

"Fine Marcus. You win. We'll leave."

They walked out, pushing Junius to the side as they walked back across the courtyard to the house. Junius, Satorius, and Calya walked in afterwards and rushed over to the two Quarians. He and Calya picked up Kemm off the ground and rested him on a nearby table, before they grabbed his facemask off the ground and reattached it onto his helmet. Satorius rushed over to help Yana.

As she stood up, she rushed over to Kemm. He kept coughing, spraying mucus onto the inside of his mask. As he moaned, she grabbed his hand and leaned over to him.

"Kemm! Kemm, are you alright?"

"Yana? I'm… I'm fi…" He began only to burst out, coughing uncontrollably. Junius removed his talon from the mask.

"Spirits," Junius groaned as he kept examining him, "He's burning up, right through his suit."

Yana burst into tears and placed her arm around him as she pressed her helmet against his.

"Kemm. I'm so sorry."

He slowly turned his head to her. "No… Don't apologize Yana…" He burst out in another fit of coughing.

Satorius looked over to her. "What happened?"

Yana stood back up and answered, as she placed her hand over Kemm's chest. "That bosh'tet Had'dah. Treating Kemm and me like pets to show off."

"He owns you, as he does the rest of us," said Junius as he continued checking Kemm's vital signs.

"He may own us as property, but at least he acknowledges you three as being technically living sentient beings. He treats us the same way as those guards of his. Like we're animals! If they treat you badly, they know you can feel but they don't care. With us, as Quarians, they think we don't even have such metal capabilities. Had'dah treats you like slaves, but he views us as dirty animals."

She stared down at Kemm and tried to hold back another wave of tears as he kept breathing heavily. Junius turned to her.

"Yana, what did you and Kemm do to anger Master Had'dah? Tell me all of what happened."

She sniffed up her tears and spoke, "While we were cleaning the rooms upstairs, he called us in into his personal study…" Kemm burst out in another set of painful coughs, before settling down on the table he laid on, moaning. "He forced us down on our hands and knees, and made us run about his study like varren, barking and making us fetch thrown objects as he sat in his desk and sickeningly watched for his pleasure. But, but..."

"That perverted bosh'tet!" yelled Kemm, before he coughed even more, "He… he demanded that we… mate, 'like the filthy swarm of suit rats' we are."

Junius looked to them, "So you defied him then?"

"I was not going… to perform such a perverted act."

"I don't get it?" asked Calya. "I though you two were lovers? The master always has you two pair together whenever he displays you two."

"Kemm and I are related!" Yana burst into tears, "We were on our pilgrimage when slavers captured us. But no one ever cares. They sold us off as a 'fertile and mating' pair. Keelah… The idea of someone who wants to see people born into slavery…"

Junius turned to her, "I am… aware of the idea. You can believe me in that." He turned back to Kemm and saw his bright eyes glow past his mask, moving back and forth as he rolled his head in a confused daze.

"He needs an antibiotic shot!" said Satorius.

"You three stay with him. I'll run back to the manor and get the medic ki…"

Two knocks were heard, coming from the half open door of the shed. Junius turned his head to that direction, but saw nothing at the half opened door except for the light coming in. But when he looked down on the ground illuminated by it, he saw two objects laying there that were not a moment ago.

The others noticed as well and watch as Junius walked over to pick them up from the ground. One was a cylinder tube, labeled in with the galactic recognized symbol for medicine. Another was a tablet, a sidelight flashing to indicate a message. As Junius walked back to them, he opened the tablet.

"What is it?" asked Yana.

"I-I will read it aloud. Calya, watch the door."

"Yes Mr. Junius."

As he stood at the corner of the door to watch for any of Edan's goons, Junius held up the tablet and read.

" _The famed Marcus Junius. If you are reading this, as I expect you to out of curiosity, I recommend you first help that poor Quarian you have. The tube next to this message is a dextro based antibiotic shot of military grade…"_

Yana yelled out the moment she heard that line, "That's the medicine, use it, Mr. Junius!"

"This could be poison!"

"There's no more time to get back to the manor. He'll be dead either way!" said Satorius.

She cried out, "Please… save him."

"Ok, fine. Here goes nothing."

He placed the tablet down and looked for a special injection slot site along Kemm's suit. After locating it along his lower back, he carefully opened the tube and took out the medication needle. He tried to keep his hand steady, but his old, withered body kept doing anything but.

"Yana, administer the shot."

She ran around to the other side of the table and he handed her the needle. Quickly, she implanted the needle into the slot, opening a special membrane to allow the needle into the suit, which formed tightly onto his skin. After she removed the needle and placed it back in the tube, Kemm woke up from his daze, still coughing up.

"What, what happened?"

Yana quickly embraced him. He responded as well in confusion as he continued coughing. "Kemm, you're alright!"

Junius looked at them, stumped. He turned to the medical tube. Below the Council medical symbol was another symbol. It was a large red symmetric cross in a white circular background.

"I doubt a Council shot can quickly fix him, let alone a Batarian one."

Kemm sat up, resting on his elbow as he continued to cough. "I wouldn't say fixed, but I do feel like I'm loaded with a hundred regular medications."

Junius turned to the tablet and continued to read.

" _Now then. That shot is of a… foreign make. Very strong. But it won't last for long. Junius, read this carefully._

 _The Hegemony is fighting a war. But they are losing. The mysterious invaders Edan and Dov'tok speak of will descend on Camala."_

"What war?" asked Calya as he continued to check the door.

"The Commissar said the Batarians were fighting a war with an unknown race. But he said they were winning. That's why the officers are coming.

" _Junius, I offer you hope. I offer you a way to get your revenge on your enslavers. I offer you freedom! A reply is available below. If you choose yes, a plan to escape shall be listed. Otherwise, you may return to your current life, and this message will delete regardless. But please. Think it through._

 _A friend from the Resistance."_

His mouth slowly dropped before he spoke, "Freedom…"

"Mr. Junius! You have to respond with yes. We could all escape this hell!" said Yana.

"This can easily be a trap. A confession to plotting against Master Had'dah!" He stood up, holding the tablet as he backed up, bumping into a shelve full of tools. "This is…"

"It's a way out Mr. Junius!" said Satorius, "Now we can teach that fat four eye bastard a lesson. We can be free!"

"Quiet Satorius!" He continued reading the tablet, tapping it on his talon as he thought of it. "No. This is a trap. Satorius, Calya. Help me bring Kemm back into the house. We can finish treating him there."

As he brought his talon up to delete the tablet's content, Kemm grabbed his arm.

"No!"

"What in the spirits do you mean Kemm?"

Kemm looked straight at him. The glowing light of his covered eyes was aimed at Junius' own, reminding him of the last time a Quarian stared him down, "Mr. Junius. If you don't want your freedom, that's fine. But I refuse to be owned by that monster."

"The same for me also!" said Yana, "I don't know about any of you, but Kemm and I still remember a life, far from this place. It may not have been great, but we were free!"

"If you won't take this chance, we will. We'd rather die trying, die in an act of freedom than be his pets!"

They stared at him, the white bead glow of their eyes trained at his own. He looked at them, unable to respond to their words, unable to defend his master. He looked down at the tablet one more time, as Calya and Satorius walked up to them.

"Mr. Junius."

He turned to him, "Yes Satorius."

"I-I want to join them too."

"What!"

"So do I!" said Calya, "I don't want to live under that sadistic man. I want to know what it's like to be a free man."

"I've spent the better part of my life as a slave. When I first met you, Mr. Junius, I was raised to think you died as a hero. Now we're both here. Don't you want to return, set the record straight?"

"What record?" shouted Junius as he tossed the tablet on to the table, "That I didn't die? That while I was captured and enslaved by the Hegemony? That my best friend, who caused the defeat of Philippi and put me here, went on to be Primarch? That I never got to see my first son grow up?"

A dead silence filled the room, they all stared at Junius, who was exasperated. He looked back at them, realizing they were in complete shock of the words he had said. He moved, suddenly feeling the strain of his old body as his legs almost gave out from shock. He leaned on the table and noticed the tablet once more. Junius stared at it as the screen began to display a timer in the Turian numeral. He reached over to take it, looking at the information. Yana then looked at him.

"Your _first_ son?" asked Yana.

Junius continued to stare at the tablet, as each number counted down the seconds left until the information self-deleted. "Trust me Yana… a life as a slave is hardly a life at all," he looked at Calya, "But to be born as one… is no life at all."

As the last galactic standard seconds counted down, he reached over to the tablet. He tapped the response key and stood off the table.

"Well. Let us begin, shall we?"

* * *

 _Galactic Codex: Citadel Edition, Galactic Standard Year 2907._

 _ **Fleet Admiral Marcus Junius:**_

 _ **Born**_ _: 2817 GS, 3rd day of the Turian Month of Servillia; Cipritine, Palaven_

 _ **Death**_ _: 2872 GS, 23rd day of the Turian Month of Antona; Philippi; Age 55 GSY_

 _ **Service**_ _: Turian Navy, Council Fleet (KIA)_

 _ **Years of service**_ _: 2832-2872_

 _ **Rank**_ _:_

 _Fleet Admiral_

 _Head Admiral of the Turian Navy_

 _Head Commander for the Council Fleet_

 _ **Battles/Wars**_ _:_

The Pilgrim Uprising

 _Citadel Bombings_

 _Cyone Incident_

 _Tuchunka Insurgence_

 _Battle of Korlus_

The New Rebellion

 _Battle of Gatros_

 _Battle of Thebia_

The Turian-Batarian War

 _Battle of Philippi_

 _ **Awards**_ _:_

 _Nova Cluster Medals (5)_

 _Armiger Legion Honorary Legionary Award_

Posthumously:

 _The Medal of the Sky Titans_

 _The Primarch's Medal of Service_

 _The Order of Duty and Honor_

 _Salarian Silver Dagger_

 _Asari Atheme's Shield_

 _Fleet Admiral Marcus Junius was the Fleet Admiral of the Turian 34th Fleet. He was the latest of a long line of Junius, descending from from Primarch Lucius Junius who led the end of the Unification War that created the Greater Turian Hierarchy. Second only to Primarch Victorio during the Turian-Batarian war, he is remembered across Turian space as a war hero and held up as a modern day example of the kind of civil duty every Turian should inspire to do for the Hierarchy._

 _Since his youth as a young lieutenant, he served in many high profile operations by the Citadel Council and the Turian Hierarchy. His first major leadership role was an assignment by Fleet Admiral Toma as Matriarch Lidanya's second in command in hunting down the fugitive, and later war criminals, Zaren'Vali, Miri'Ghirn, and Faunz'Reeger during the high point of the infamous 'Pilgrim Uprising'. Though he failed to capture the illusive trio, he was credited by the Council over Lidanya for crushing the armed uprising and restoring order in the outer regions of Council space._

 _In later years, he led the Turian-backed Council fleet in stopping rogue Warlord Okeer's attempt to cure the Genophage. Taking control of the Turian famed Armiger Legion, he suppressed several operations by Okeer and came close to capturing Okeer himself. Though he failed to capture the criminal Krogan, his campaign broke any remaining resistance by the Krogan against Council authority and weakened the criminal Blood Pack forces considerably. He was known to be adamant in his displeasure for the Quarians and the Krogan._

 _In the last Turian-Batarian war, his force was ambushed by Batarian forces as part of a major Hegemony offensive near the colony of Philippi. His ship, the Titans of Palaven, was destroyed in the battle and the main Turian force was forced to retreat. During that time, Primarch Tabitha Victorio died of old age and was replaced by Junius's second in command, close friend, and brother-in-law, Gaius Cassiud. Philippi was retaken after the war and a monument stands to commemorate him and those lost that day. Though he is known to have a family, much of the detail has been covered up. His wife and son's identity are now state secrets, and it is often believed that he marked the end of the Junius line._

* * *

 _ **British Broadcasting Corporation News: Terra:**_ _Evening Report. June 6, 2167_

 _ **The Skyllian Blitz: Humanity righteous march against the galaxy!**_

 _Every day, our proud and righteous sons and daughters of Terra march forward against the alien menace! Hour by hour, the Terran Second Fleet, led by Fleet Admiral Andrew Roland, pushes deeper into the 'Hegemony'. Planet by planet, as the Navy wipes clean of the savages, the Army and Marines make landfall, singing the battle cry of freedom. For the enslaved, our flag, the Banner of Unity, has become the symbol of freedom as we continue on our great cause!_

" _Then Liberate we must, for always our cause it is just; and this be our motto: 'By God's Grace, we have won!'" This quoted in an interview with General Edward Williams during the siege of the alien world of Rigeno. Days ago, humanity was alone. Now, we alone must take up the banner for the rest of the galaxy. Humanity marches onward. Against an alien race bent our enslavement, we shall be the right hand of Liberty. By our example, we bring true civilization to the galaxy. From the ashes of the fallen angels, we, the Terran race shall uplift all the galaxy!_

 _Across the nation, all effort has been to the war effort. Across the colonies and the home world, recruitment lines have swelled, many ready to defend the Federation as others prepare to march onto the rest of the galaxy… Wait, hold on here…_

 _Attention! Your attention, please! A newsflash has this moment arrived from the Indris Front. Our forces over the Batarian world of Camala have just won a glorious victory against the fascist Hegemony. I don't wish to be abrupt, but this action we are now reporting may well bring the war within close distance of its end._

 _This is BBC News: Terra._

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

 _Its important we remember,_  
 _One man does not represent an entire people._  
 _An entire people does not represent one man._

Once again, thanks for reading.  
The fate of the _Clark_ and Quarian First Contact will follow soon enough.  
Please feel free to review; comments, questions, and all  
And don't forget to follow, for there's more to come.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

* * *

Posted on April 22, 2016 - Beta-read by MoonSword1994


	5. 4: Shock and Awe

**Chapter Four: Shock and Awe**

* * *

 **Part 1:**

 **Marcus Junius - Camala  
End of Fifth Day of the Skyllian Blitz  
June 5, 2167 17:00:00 UTC**

 _I am delighted you agreed to help. You have ensured not only the survival of your fellow slaves, but their freedom! The plan is simple._

 _After dinner, the officers shall indulge themselves with their parties and debauchery. The resistance time table shall have the attack on Camala at around this time. This is when you shall strike!_

 _We have hidden weapons in the house, as detailed in a map attached. You shall personally take out the officers in the upstairs parlor. Have your most trusted servants take out the guards, which I leave to you. With the officers dead, the invasion shall go unheeded._

 _Mr. Had'dah and Commissar Dov'tok should be in the downstairs parlor during this time. Have the door closed so they don't become aware of the takeover. What you do with them, I leave to you, for I doubt either of them will take kindly to what you do._

 _Afterwards, agents will meet with you and you shall make your way to the invaders. There, you shall be free._

 _Don't trust anyone! This is of the highest importance. The foreign invaders shall descend on Camala either way. This plan is to save our agents on their own mission. If it goes right, it shall save you too._

 _If you find us, we shall say: From the bowls of Logasiri…_

 _You shall say: To see the stars above…_

* * *

The officers sat at the dining table, their meals finished, as they chatted with Edan and Dov'tok. The windows were dark as the short day on Camala ended and the cool night took hold of the desert world. As they enjoyed themselves, Junius and several Asari and Turian maids stood straight up against the wall. Junius stood closest to Edan and Dov'tok.

"… And that was the first time I ever saw the poor bastard, holding this dead kid in his arms as the mine elevator reached the surface. All around him, guards and searchlights trained on him!"

They all began laughing at his story, drinking down wine and liquor as they rested in their soft cushion chairs, full and satisfied by the meal.

"And I've owned Marcus since. One of my prized possessions."

"Well Mr. Had'dah," said Admiral Gadvod. "That was a fine story. What did you think Commissar Dov'tok?"

Dov'tok took a drink from his glass and gave a short, halfhearted chuckle before he spoke. "To know his son died in his own arms…" Dov'tok turned to his right to look up at Junius, his four eyes aimed at his two. Junius simply stood there with a plain expression on in his face, his mandibles twitching a bit. Inside though, he was boiling with rage, but equally on the verge of crying as his aged heart beat rapidly. Dov'tok whispered, loud enough for just Junius to hear, "You should consider yourself lucky. I never got to see what happened to mine!"

Gadvod, sitting to Edan's right near the end of the table, noticed Yana on Edan's left, on the floor between Edan, Dov'tok, and Junius.

"Your… suit rat. What is going on there?" asked Gadvod as he placed his drink down.

Edan smiled, glad that the officer took an interest. He chuckled then answered, "Oh, yes. Yana here is my pet rat." Edan turned to her, on her knees as she with her hands close to her chest like a varren trying to stand up, while she panted like one as well.

He gave her a sick, perverted smile, before baby talking to her as he held her chin up. "Aren't you? Whose Daddy's little rat?"

She barked in acknowledgement, as she was trained to do.

"Uh? I never knew you shared the Chairman's affinity for those things," said Admiral Bastok.

"It is unfortunate that the Chairman couldn't be here today," said Edan.

"Yes, well, he seemed hard pressed on dealing with the war going on," replied Captain Not'tas.

"But I can presume the war is going well?"

"Oh yes, of course!" said Gadvod, "The Chairman himself is set on bringing about another glorious Batarian victory, as he did against your slave here over Philippi… You know, I do not think even His Greatness Chairman Kavos knows he's still alive."

"I admit. It's been a secret of mine when I found him. But once your war is over, he may use Marcus for his own purpose. I bet the Turians would be crushed if they learned he's not dead, but a slave to us."

Gadvod laughed before drinking down. "Absolutely!"

"Well. Before we move on to tonight's festivities, a toast!" Edan raised his glass, as Junius and the maids rushed to refill their drinks.

"An excellent idea," said Dov'tok, who stood up, followed by all the officers and Edan, "A toast to the Hegemony's victory over our inferior enemy!"

"Here, here!"

The clanking of glass filled the room, before they all drank down their drinks and sat back down. Edan stood back up and walked to the side door heading into the living room.

"My honored guests, I believe it is time we continue on with the night. My selection of lustful slaves will pleasure you in ways you simply have yet to image. All for the heroes of the Hegemony!"

They all applauded him and cheered, before standing up to leave the dining room. Edan yanked on Yana's leash, forcing her to crawl to him with fake enthusiasm. As Admiral Gadvod walked towards the door first, he took notice.

"I presume she's just for you?"

"Host's privilege," replied Edan as he yanked harder on her leash, slowly choking her.

He laughed as he walked out, followed by the others, "Of course Mr. Had'dah."

After the officers cleared out, Edan began to leave as well with Yana in tow, before Dov'tok approached him.

"Mr. Had'dah. I must thank you again very much for this dinner," he said as he looked around for a bit.

"Please, Commissar Dov'tok. Think nothing of it. Anything for the Hegemony."

He nodded, "I am glad to hear that. I… must request something else from you."

"Oh, I see. Of course, if I can help then…"

"This however, I can assure you. A most just compensation for your work. Can we discuss it in your first-floor parlor, alone?"

"Yes, let us go." Edan turned to Junius and handed him Yana's leash. "Junius, go walk the damn rat. I think she needs to piss or something."

They both left, leaving just Junius and Yana in the room as the maids took the last dishes off the table and into the kitchen. As soon as they were sure they were gone, Yana stood up and turned to Junius.

"Mr. Junius. I… I'm sorry about…"

"Please Yana, this isn't the place…" he sighed, staring into the wall for a moment, before snapping out, "Let us begin."

* * *

 **Part 2:**

 **Junius and Edan - After Dinner  
June 5, 2167 18:00:00 UTC**

As the others took their position across the manor, Junius prepared for his part. He climbed up the stairs and down the hallway on the second floor. Ahead of him were the double doors into the parlor. Right before however, he stopped and turned to a small hallway table with a vase and fake flowers. Junius looked around, seeing Relile running across the hall from one room to another, making a buzzing noise as he held his arms out, thinking he was an airplane. When he entered another room and shut the door, Junius checked the underside of the table.

"A silenced Carnifex? They must really be serious. Well, it replaces the one I loss sixty years ago."

He took the weapon and holstered it inside his pants, hidden by his suit coat. He continued down the hall, awaiting the cue to begin. The officers' secretary was outside the manor. When he rushed in to warn of the attack, he would strike. He wondered for a moment. _Who was the resistance agent?_

He waited outside the doors, hearing the moaning and slight cries of the slaves as the officers had their way with them. He leaned against the wall and waited. But as he looked down the hall, one of the officers appeared around a corner. He was in a rush to get back to the room, his shirt already off, when he noticed Junius.

"Hey, you're Edan's slave. That Turian."

Junius snapped to attention, "Yes sir! Is there anything you need?"

"Why are you here, shouldn't you be cleaning or something?"

"I-I'm here getting ready to clean up after Master Edan's guests are done with themselves."

The officer gave a short laugh at him before responding, "Yah, that's not going to happen for some time." He took a quick look around before turning back to Junius. "Hey, if you like… wanna join us in the festivities?"

"Excuse me, sir?"

"I did a lot of studying on Turian tactics in the academy. A master of combat. You can say I'm an admirer."

"Uh, well, that was ages ago. I'm just Master Had'dah's servant now." Junius quickly responded, shocked by the idea.

"Come on, _Admiral_ Junius. I have this nice, beautiful Asari waiting for me in there," the officer gave a large smile, his sharp teeth exposed fully, "I think you know the one…" He clenched his fist and did a light knock on Junius's crotch, checking him up to see if he was interested.

Immediately after though, Junius's gun was knocked out, falling to the ground.

"You and me, we would just fu… Hey… why did you have a gu…"

Junius tackled him to the opposite wall and punched him repeatedly, brutally stunning him. Unable to respond, the Batarian was put in a hold as Junius whispered to his ear.

"Really, it is nice to meet a fan…" and with a quick twist, he snapped his neck.

He picked up the gun and walked to the door. "Well, one down I guess." He took a deep breath, calming his mind and body, just enough to stabilize his hand. Then, he kicked the door down, with every officer in the room quickly stopping in their debaucherous orgy to the sound of the slammed doors. The Hegemony officers and the slaves staring right at Junius as he held his gun up, taking aim as he took account of the six other officers in the room.

Junius fired, the first sand grain round shot in to a Batarian commodore as he pulled out from one of the slaves. The others quickly scrambled to their side arms, but Junius proved faster, gunning two admirals in the chest as they reached for the center table. A fourth one charged at him, but Junius kicked him in the chest and fired a round into his eye. A few moments after the shooting began, the other slaves joined Junius. A Turian, being caressed earlier, jabbed the Batarian captain on top with her talons, turning him over as she clawed at his eyes. Tarme, chained to the bed, energized her biotics and broke free. As the last Batarian reached for his gun and took aim at Junius, she lifted him up with her biotics, struggling to hold him with her non-amplified biotics. With a loud yell, she tossed him out the parlor window and down into the back of the manor.

She then grabbed the blanket off the bed and covered herself as she walked to Junius.

"Mr. Junius, what in the goddess are you doing… what did we just do?"

"Tarme, we're getting the hell out of here. Get them dressed, now!"

On the tables and the arms of a few dead officers, several omnitools lit up. A broadcast played, auto translating to everyone as _Flight of the Valkyries_ played loudly in the background.

 _People of Camala. Your liberation is at hand. The Terran people are here to save you!_

A loud explosion rang out from the windows outside. They all turned, seeing bright red orbs of light rain down from the skies above. Explosions of bright light then filled the sky as fighters suddenly rushed over the manor towards the flash. It quickly grew brighter, the night turning into day.

A Batarian rushed up to the room, failing to notice the dead body in the hall, "Admirals, we're under atta…" However, he did notice the several dead and naked Batarians laying on the floor. Junius, standing next to him, rolled his eyes and shot him as well.

"I think it's time to go."

* * *

"What the hell is going on, Dov'tok?" asked Edan as they opened the doors into the foyer from the parlor.

Dov'tok looked out the window, "We're… we're under attack!"

"How is that possible, you said we were winning? We're at the heart of Hegemony space!"

Dov'tok snarled before responding, "That's what my reports said. I guess they were fabricated."

Edan looked to him, worried, "What do we do?"

"I need to secure those archives. That data is of the most vital essence!" said Dov'tok as he rushed over to the computer room in the manor.

"What! Forget those Prothean data banks. We need to get to the Hegemony lines and await rescu…"

He heard several gunshots and turned to the foyer. From around the staircase, several of his guards were running away from the kitchen and servants quarters, before being gunned down or stabbed by the servants and slave chefs. As they fell before him, he looked up to see one thrown over the balcony of the staircase by Junius as he and the other slaves amassed at the top of the staircase. Edan walked over to the center of the foyer, engaging his omnitool to execute their cranial implants. But Junius took notice and pulled out his gun and fired, cutting off his left hand and destroying the omnitool.

Edan yelled out in pain and looked up to him as he clenched his severed wrist, "Marcus! What the hell are you doing! Look at what you just did!"

Junius stepped down onto the marble floor, holstering his pistol in a pouch he took from the parlor. He then socked Edan across his face. As he laid on the ground, Junius stood over him, the intimidating posture of a Turian Hierarchy Admiral radiating off of him and on to Edan.

"It's not Marcus, _Edan_! It's Fleet Admiral Junius!"

Edan slowly inched away from him as he held up his right hand to stop him, "Please… Admiral. What is this you're all doing?"

"They?" he looked as the other slaves made their way to the door, armed with the hidden or stolen weapons. Satorius, Calya, Tarme, and Yana walked up to Junius, looking down onto Edan, with absolute horror and fear on his face and black beaded eyes. "They are escaping to freedom. But for you..."

Junius raised his left arm and with a stroke, activated the omniblade on the omnitool he took off a dead admiral. He took the tablet he used for a decade as a slave from his jacket and threw it at Edan.

"Junius, what are you doing with that?"

"Why Master Had'dah, this old thing? Allow me to show you."

"Marcus!"

They all turned to the top of the staircase where Galo was, holding Relile in her arms. Junius stared at them with utter disgust before he turned back to Edan.

"I lost my first son because of the Hegemony. And I lost my second one because of you! Now… for Adrien… little Relile will lose his father because of me!"

"No! Please don't!"

And with a quick, clear thrust, he impaled Edan with his omniblade. As the others backed up from him, Galo and Relile cried out as Junius raised the fat Edan off the ground with his blade, before he disengaged and dropped him onto the ground, the blood on the blade falling onto him and the ground. As Edan bled out, his eyes wide open, his wife and son rushed down the stairs to him. Junius stood above them as they moaned over him, Relile shaking Edan's body to get him to respond.

Junius stared at the kid, before pulling out his Carnifax and pointed it at his head. Relile looked up, paralyzed as he stared down Junius' barrel.

"Bang, bang. You're dead…"

He holstered the pistol and let him be, still frozen in fear. As the others stood guard, Junius looked into the parlor.

He signed, "Now… for Dov'tok."

* * *

The others stayed as he rushed into the parlor, noticing the empty room. He looked around, before seeing the door leading into Edan's personal database room, were he stored data from his surveys across the galaxy. Junius walked over, pulling out his Carnifax. He stood at the door, took a deep breath, and kicked the door down.

The room was dark; the only light source was a computer console being blocked by a person standing in front of it. At the console, Dov'tok finished typing.

"Done. Now to get the hell out of here."

He grabbed the OCD from the computer and then bashed the console in. The lights from the rest of the room returned and he turned around to leave, only to see Junius holding a gun at him.

"Marcus Junius!"

"Markov Dov'tok. I was hoping to see you again."

The manor rocked as other wave of volley fire struck the ground near them. Dov'tok dropped his gun as Junius gestured him to.

"Really? Is there something you wanted?"

Junius stared him down, drawing a blank for a moment as something hit his mind. "Its… about your son. What was his name?"

"Why the hell would you want to know that?"

Junius turned his gun to the side and fired, hitting one of the computer servers in the room.

"Tell me his name, now!"

Dov'tok snarled, "Its Jorlin. Commander Jorlin Dov'tok. Why do you want to know? Going to gloat over his death?"

Junius stared at him for a moment before answering, "No… I wanted to apologize. His death must have been hard on you."

Dov'tok eyes widen a bit, surprised, "I-It was… Thank you. And your own son, Adrien. Born in the shaft mines. To die in your arms. My condolences for that."

"T-thank you." His talons shook, but he kept the gun on him.

"Why Junius? Why did you try to take him? From the bowls of Logasiri…"

Junius' eyes widened up as he heard those words, "For him to see the stars above…"

Dov'tok chuckled as they both lowered their arms. "It's good you joined us, Junius."

"It was you?"

The house shook again. This time, one of the Terrans' torpedoes slammed just outside the manor, blasting the windows in.

"No time Junius, we need to get out of here now!"

* * *

 **Part 3:**

 **Donn'Reeger and Lima Squad - Camala Wilderness  
June 5, 2167 20:00:00 UTC**

"That is a beautiful sniper rifle," said Tamarine as she spotted for the new Quarian sniper in her squad.

"Thanks," said Donn, "My father designed it to take on anything: armored vehicles, Geth Primes, a Krogan."

"That's a lot of firepower", she looked through her helmet visor, zooming into a Hegemony convoy. "Convoy, twelve o'clock!"

"What?"

"Straight ahead!"

As the rest of her squad waited down in a patch of woods, full of brushes and dead trees, Donn took aim with his Widow rifle and fired. The round crossed the over two kilometer distance in under a second and punched the engine block of an armed vehicle, blowing it up. The rest stopped and the Batarian soldiers scattered to return fire, only for a naval fighter bomber to swoop in and shred them up with its phaser plasma cannons.

"Ah damn, the Navy stole our kill, again!" yelled Tamarine as she stood up.

The pilot radioed in, chuckling all the while as his plane flew over them, "This is Bayleaf. Thanks for the kill _assist_ , Lima-2."

She looked over to her squad, who were mocking the Navy pilot as he flew by.

"Lima Squad! Fall in!"

They all stood and turned to her and saluted, "Ma'am!"

Donn leaned to her, "What's this?"

"Just say, 'The Marines' after each question."

She sounded off the chant of the Terran Marine.

" _Who does the Navy's job?"_

" _The Marines!"_

" _Who makes the Army look bad?"_

" _The Marines!"_

" _Who brings Terran liberty and freedom?"_

" _The Marines!"_

' _Who enjoys getting spaced?"_

" _The Marines!"_

" _Let's go Lima!"_

They moved out and continued through the woods, as gun fire filled the air. The stayed low as they moved from tree to tree, spread out as they advance back to the main road a click ahead of them.

* * *

"Who is it that's attacking?" asked Junius as they made their way through the woods to avoid Hegemony troops.

"My source says they're called 'Terrans' or 'Humans'."

"Which is it?" asked Yana.

"Resistance members under their control aren't sure apparently."

Junius looked back, "Satorius, how is Kemm doing?"

"He's heating up again. We'll need to get to a hospital soon."

"Where did these Terrans set up their FOB?" asked Junius, "And where are those agents you said would help us escape?"

"Actually, I'm it Junius. Didn't think I'd make it this far."

"That's just great."

They continued, the nineteen of them toward the unknown, just trying to get as far away from the manor. Around them where thick dead trees and bushes, impeding them down as each one tried to pass through and stay together. Most of them left on the fly, either barely dressed in what clothes they could find, or still in their evening formal attire. As they continued, Satroius carried Kemm on his back, the antibiotics wearing off and his sickness returning. His cough grew louder as they continued, worrying as it could be heard from a distance.

Junius then stopped, raising his hands for everyone else to stop. Someone did hear Kemm cough.

"We… we're surrounded!"

The Terran Marines broke from cover, quickly surrounding the escaped slaves from all ends. The others raised their weapons, but Junius ordered them to drop them instead. He knew they couldn't fight off a group of power armor soldiers. As the squad leader Tamarine approached him, she yelled, "Identify yourself!"

He replied with his hands up, but wasn't sure what she said. She took note and realized the language barrier.

"Donn. We need a translator." She took a look at them, noticing something in Junius's ear. "I think they have a translator ear piece."

"Take this translator program from my omnitool," he activated his hand and waved his omnitool over her watch. "You're good to go, ma'am."

She stared back at him, "Identify yourself!"

"Junius! Marcus Junius!"

Dov'tok turned to her, "They are escaped slaves!"

"And who the hell are you?"

"Markov Dov'tok, Batarian Resistance fighter. I aided in their liberation. You can radio in your command, they're aware of my activities on Camala."

She looked at him in suspicion, but moved away to radio in to the fleet. As she did so, Donn noticed the two Quarians and rushed up to them.

"Ancestors, what happened to him?" asked Donn to the Turian.

"He was tortured. His fever is getting worse."

Satorius placed him down as Donn grabbed his own med kit and injected an antibiotic shot. Yana rushed up to him as he regained consciousness.

"You're a Quarian!" said Yana as she checked on Kemm and then looked to Donn.

"Donn'Reeger Vas Rayya. The admirals have sent a battalion of Marines to aid the Terrans."

"What? Why? Who are these people?"

"It would take too long to explain. But trust them. They are friends."

Tamarine turned back to all of them, removing her helmet. They all stared at her face, the first time they ever saw a human before.

"Keelah, she looks like one of us", said Kemm after he turned to stare, his head still dizzy, "She has nice brown hair."

"Why thank you." She nodded to him and turned to Dov'tok, "Dov'tok, we got confirmation. Good job saving them."

"Thank you. We have wounded, where is the nearest safe haven?"

"We have a FOB ten clicks from here. But if we head straight down here, there's a road block one kilometer from here. They should have trucks to take you from there on out."

"Thank you," said Junius, "All of you… who are you?"

She saluted him, "Lieutenant Lauren Tamarine, Terran Marine, Second Fleet, 5th Division."

"We should let them get going. Kemm needs a doctor, ASAP," said Donn.

"Take care you two. And when you pass by the block, remember the reply. When they say 'John Brown', respond with, 'Is alive'."

"Will do, Lieutenant," said Dov'tok.

"You're free now Mr. Junius."

* * *

 **Part 4:**

 **Admiral Roland - Khar'Shan  
Day Seven of the Skyllian Blitz  
June 7, 2167 10:00:00 UTC**

 _Was this what Bowman was fearing for years? I saw more resistance during the Revival._

Roland pondered as he stared at the command table on his ship, the _Brighton_. A globe of Khar'shan was projected, flanked with screens on either side with data and incoming reports. He looked out the viewport, where the rest of the flotilla was in formation over the planet. As the rest of his staff moved about, he turned to Hanson across the table.

"Hanson, what's the status of the 61st flotilla?" asked Roland.

"Already commencing orbital bombardment on the northern continent. General LeBeau and Field Marshal Zhao has sent for additional air support," said Hanson.

"Divert the _McClellan_ and the _Minié_ 's fighter bombers to their combat zones. Double the orbital clearance zone with reserves form the 23rd scout squadron."

An ensign came up to them, "Admiral, reports from the rest of the fleet."

Roland turned to him, grabbing the tablet, "Thank you, Ensign… Oh, and can you please get me a kettle of tea?"

"Uh… Of course, sir."

Hanson added on as well as typed on his console, "Some coffee also please, white as Pacifica's star, sweet as her cane fields."

Over the skies of Khar'shan, Fleet Admiral Roland's Second fleet descended onto the Batarian homeworld. The Batarian home system was the final obstacle to a full Terran victory over the Hegemony. A day ago, he personally led his fleet through the only major form of Hegemony naval resistance. Roland would have liked to have been his former protege to save the _Clark_. But with the extreme restraint of the mission, it was miraculous Hackett succeeded. As for his mission, though he lost several dozens of ships, his overall ship loss was low. Heavy cruiser below, he had yet to lose a single one of his numerous dreadnought size ships in the short war. In hours, he had taken the system, the remaining batarian fleet holding on to a besieged fortress on Spekilas.

Unlike the preference of most of the other fleet admirals in the Terran Navy, his flagship wasn't a _F_ _lagship_. The _Brighton_ was the center of his fleet. An old _Dover_ Class Battlecruiser, she bore the name of his hometown, the ship he personally commanded with pride since he became Fleet Admiral after Admiral Black became the Naval Correspondent of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. On her bridge, Roland and Hanson looked at the holo globe of Khar'shan, tracking the joint military operation deployment.

Unlike the small, scientific and diplomatic scouts and cruisers, the main war ships of the Federation were built up with full tactical operation in mind. The main bridge was larger and wider, demanding an active bridge crew of over fifty at any time, and featured a large holo table in the center that act as a command hub to coordinate forces. The front had a large viewport of space for tactical view of everything in front of the ship, capable of being used as a holo screen for real time data display, with a trench full of lined up rows of consoles at the front, and a walkway splitting up the rows down the middle to the viewport. Behind the command table was a raised level of the bridge, where the helmsman stood and secondary operations were planned. The design was standard for nearly all war built Terran ships.

"So they're bogged down around the capital then?" asked Roland as he pointed at the northern continent, a blue line representing the fourth Army and a red line representing the Batarian's ground forces.

"Yes sir. Resistance is proving harder than anticipated. It appears that they just started mounting a defense against us," said Hanson.

"I'm surprised they're still fighting. We tricked the local planetary nations into nuking each other. How can they be still organized enough to attack?" He paused as he stared at the map, "We need to take Khar'shan, win the war today…" He placed his hands on the globe and zoomed in to the capital. "The Hegemony brass, they're all centered here then?"

"Yes Admiral. The Chairman and his military staff are reported to be there by the Batarian resistance. Everyone else was killed trying to fight us."

"But captured? Do we have a captured leader of high standings?"

Hanson brought up a holo console and began searching. He then found something and turned to Roland. "Here. Hackett's raid a few days ago. His report indicates the capture of two foreign individuals."

Roland looked over to him, "Yes, I remember. Hackett told me one of them joined the _Clark_ 's crew."

"But the other one was taken by force. One Ka'Hairal Balak, a commander in the Batarian military. He's the highest ranking member we have in custody. Actually, he's well known among the Hegemony's Loyalist, based on resistances' records."

Roland raised his right eyebrow, "But the others are in some bunker in the capital?"

"Yes sir."

A small smile grew in his face as he nodded his head, "He will do just right…" He grabbed an idle tablet and began typing in orders onto it, before he finished and handed it to Hanson. "Send this to the Army. I want a full retreat from the outskirts of the capital city, a hundred clicks should do. Send a request for Balak to be transferred to my custody. I want him on this ship in no more than three hours."

"Yes, sir. So we'll be kinetically striking the city then?" asked Hanson as he took the tablet and began relaying the information.

"We have Balak. We don't need the rest of the Hegemony."

The ensign approached them, a silver platter in his hand. Roland and Hanson turned to him, Roland taking a cup and the kettle as Hanson grabbed his coffee. From the rear command table behind the helmsman, Rodriguez ran around and towards the central command table.

She saluted him and spoke, a worry in her face. "Admiral Roland, we…" Her face suddenly dropped into annoyance, "Seriously?"

He smiled, "What? I intend to conquer the Batarians the same way my ancestors did it, while drinking a spot of tea… speaking of which. Ensign, bring me crumpets."

"And coffee as well." She turned back to Roland as the ensign scurried off once more. She spoke with a faked accent, "So tea and crumpets? How British of you, Admiral Roland."

He chuckled as he poured a cup. He however didn't have one, "I feel like Lord Nelson! I bet I get knighted by the Queen for this."

Hanson thought for a moment and spoke out. "Didn't he die standing out in the middle of a battle."

Roland gave a short chuckle, "I have no intention of dying for my nation, Khar'shan is not my Trafalgar." He took a sip and placed his cup down, "I intend to make them four eyes bastards die for theirs. The Americans said that, right?"

"Patton, sir. Army, not Navy," replied Rodriguez.

He sighed as he picked it up again, "That's what happens when you're married to a Seattle native and your father-in-law is a field marshal. I don't even have my accent anymore."

She rolled her eyes and turned to her tablet, "Of course, sir. Anyway, we just lost contact with the 37th scout squadron near the Harsa Relay."

He placed his cup down, "What! Awe bloody hell… Thomas, sensor reports, on the table."

The AI quickly responded and displayed the holo map of the system.

"Well Rodriguez, what's the sit rep?"

"Hyperspace sensors read a contingent of enemy ships. Based on information from Hackett's raid, they're Citadel Council. A thousand ships strong. We believe it is multi-race based on the different ships types," said Rodriguez as she pointed at the blip on the map.

"At their current FTL rate, they'll engage us in ten minutes," said Hanson when he brought up hyperspace sensors.

"I see…"

Roland took the cup and saucer. He walked to the front of the bridge, closer to the viewport with lines of consoles and bridge crew on each side of him below. When he got close, the holograms activated and projected information of the fleet onto the viewport, the incoming council fleet to his right at several AUs away.

"If Hackett can take them on, then so can I! Ready a squadron of ships and prepare a hyperspace jump. Let's welcome our guests…" he took a sip of tea and raised it up, "To the fall of Khar'shan!"

* * *

 **Part 5:**

 **Admiral Tiberius Fedorian - Council Relief Fleet  
June 7, 2167 11:00:00 UTC**

"Admiral Fedorian, ETA to the Batarian homeworld is ten minutes," said a crewman to his right.

Stationed at the back of the CIC, overlooking his mass effect created hologram of the galaxy, he turned to him, "Thank You. What's the status of the enemy fleet over Khar'shan?"

"There are nearly a thousand ships directly over the planet. Another thousand across the system."

Fedorian rubbed his forehead with his talon, "Spirits, how are we supposed to stop that? They should have sent the whole fleet, not a small dispatch." He then murmured to himself, "Though I guess even that wouldn't be enough." He turned to his screen, overlooking the CIC's crew. "Have the main enemy fleet been made aware of the loss of their rear guard?"

A message came in from the helmsman in front of his CIC through his ear piece, "Sir, I believe so. Two enemy super dreadnoughts and a squad of dreadnoughts have appeared directly in our path. ETA to collision is fifteen seconds."

"Drop the fleet out of FTL. Prepare for course correction."

"Sir, we're not engaging?"

"If the _Destiny Ascension_ can't take one out, neither will we. We simply need to reach Khar'shan and regroup with what Batarian ships are still fighting."

"Aye, sir."

The Council ships left FTL, approaching the Terran battle squadron across the void, barely visible. The ships began to move out of the projected path of the flagships' weapons and moved to reengage their mass effect engines.

But before they could make the jump, a Terran battlecruiser and the two carriers appeared. Their front point directly underneath the formation of the council ships at a thousand kilometers of space between them, essentially knife fighting range.

The crewman turned to alert Fedorian, "Three ships have just appeared on sensors. They're directly beneath us!"

* * *

Roland gave the order, "All fighters, launch. Main guns, open fire."

The _Brighton_ 's guns unleashed their tungsten slugs. With the short distance, they made contact and ripped through a formation of cruisers, destroying them with ease. The aircraft carriers opened their bay launch ways as thousands of fighters were launched into the void, rushing to their target.

The Council ships tried quickly to react to their ambush. The two dreadnoughts of the formation quickly jumped to FTL, moving themselves to a considerable distance to fire their main guns with proper efficiency. As they did so, the smaller cruisers took action, changing their plane of direction, 'diving' towards to the three ships beneath them. The Salarian frigates, armed with advance ultraviolet GARDIAN lasers, moved in to take on the massive fighter wings descending on the larger ships to act as a fighter screen.

But Roland's surprise attack from the unusual angle proved to be the decisive factor. Only the smaller ships were able to actually change their bearing to bear down against the Terran ships. Council cruisers attempted to get close to the large carriers, but were quickly taken out by hundreds defensive fighters patrolling the space around them. What little that did get through were faced with barrages of the Terrans' own point defense weapons, as their phaser cannons unloaded plasma flak onto anything too close to it.

The Salarian ships didn't fare better either. Their lasers were able to burn through the low energy shielding of the first wave of Trident fighters, but unlike any tactic they had faced before, the carriers' huge fighter and bomber wings swarmed them in unimaginable numbers, and overwhelmed the ships' guns, overheating them quickly. Now jammed with overheated instruments, they were left open for more Terran spacecraft to swarm in and destroy them.

As the Council fleet was pushed back with heavy casualties, the dreadnoughts moved into position, putting a good ten thousand kilometers between them and the _Brighton_. They fired their slugs, far smaller than the Terran equivalent, but much faster. The rounds quickly closed the gap, hitting the battlecruiser. Every few seconds they fired, they unloaded kiloton strength slugs at a rate far greater than the Terrans.

On board, the ship rocked as the slugs rammed into the ship's energy shields. Though they deflected them, the kinetic energy was still transferred onto the ship, rocking it and adding stress on to the emitters, essentially weakening the shield over time.

"Status Report," ordered Roland to the officers on the bridge.

"Shields are at 15%. Hull structure at 89%."

"Good," he said, holding his cup steady as he drank, the ship still under fire from the Council's dreadnoughts, "Helmsman, bring us about and aim our rail guns. Thomas, get a hack link establish, I want to know which of those dreadnoughts their leading admiral is on."

"Establishing link, activating cyber warfare suite," said the _Brighton_ 's AI Thomas, "Data confirm. One Turian Admiral Tiberius Fedorian, on board the _Ravinia_. Marking on map."

"Thank you, Thomas. Helmsman, bare our guns on the dreadnought next to it."

Standing over the bridge, he acknowledged "Aye, aye sir. Turning about, 28 degrees port, 78 degrees down on the solar plane."

The _Brighton_ moved away from the battle, the dreadnoughts' slugs flying about, hitting and missing as the ship turned. Roland watched from the front of his bridge as the stars changed and Fedorian's ships appeared, small grey dots. The computer registered them and placed a holo blip on the viewport for easy recognition, placing a holoscreen as well of the zoomed up ship.

"Gunnery, you may fire when ready."

As soon as the ship positioned, her twin guns fired another volley of slugs. The quicker Turian rounds flew by; hitting the _Brighton_ , but the slower and far deadly Terran rounds took their time. As the Turians' rounds took only three seconds to cross the void between them, the Terrans took over ten, but proved fast enough to impact the accompanying dreadnought before they maneuvered out of range.

The first slug from the _Brighton_ 's left mag gun collided into the ship's kinetic barrier, bashing straight through its kinetic barrier, before the slug rammed through the ship and bored through it, lodging itself several meters in. The second slug, fully unimpeded, rammed its full kinetic strength into the hull itself, punching straight through the ship. In only a moment between the two slugs making contact, the entire ship exploded. The shock wave impacted the _Ravinia_ , pushing her away and causing a shot of hers to miss completely.

"Target has been destroyed. Reports from the carriers indicate the remaining Council ships have under gone a full retreat," said the gunnery officer.

A commander pointed to the holo map, "Sir, the remaining dreadnought is also preparing to leave. We are detecting an increase in their mass effect field. They're about to hit FTL."

Roland finished his tea and pointed over at the holo blip, "Thomas, disable that ship and turn off all main systems. I want to be able to greet this Fedorian myself."

"Yes sir, disabling main computer systems."

* * *

 **Part 6:**

 **Roland and Fedorian - FSS _Brighton_  
June 7, 2167 18:00:00 UTC**

As Roland waited for his main prisoner, he went down to the ship's brig where the captured Turian admiral was being secured. He walked towards the door, where two Marines were guarding the entrance. They saluted him as he entered, where higher ranked N7 Marines waited for him inside, making sure their VIP prisoner was secured and Roland was safe in the event the Turian escaped. They saluted him as well as he came closer.

Roland walked over to the cell Fedorian was in, where a force field and a secondary layer of bullet proof glass separated them. The Turian turned to look at him.

"Hello, Admiral Tiberius Fedorian. My name is Fleet Admiral Andrew Roland of the Terran Navy, Second Fleet," he said, saluting the Turian.

Fedorian recognized the salute, similar to the Turians', though his hand was palm faced outward instead of straight down, which he thought was strange since the others saluted him the normal way. He none the less stood up and saluted Roland.

"Admiral Roland. Thank you for seeing me."

"Of course," said Roland, "Please, have a seat." As Fedorian sat on his bunk, Roland grabbed a nearby office chair, rolling it over and sitting on it, leaning his arms on the back cushion. He leaned towards Fedorian, observing him. "Amazing…"

Fedorian looked at him, confused, "It's like you never saw an alien race before."

Roland chuckled, "In fact, I never had... Huh, you're like some metal bird dinosaur. Pardon me for the rather non-scientific description."

"And you're like what I presume a male Asari would be, with the hair of a Quarian... Like a pyjack. Lidanya was right."

"I don't get it. No one else has hair? I guess it's an evolutionary thing."

"They normally have white hair. I, uh… should know."

"Well, for us, it's a sign of age." He slid his hand and combed his dark grey hair back and sat up. "But where were we? Yes, welcome to the Federation Starship _Brighton_. I hope your stay is comfortable. She's an old ship, but a damn good one. If you like, we have a food replicator placed in your cell. If there's anything you wish to eat, feel free to ask the computer."

Fedorian looked at him in confusion, his mandibles opening, "A food replicator? Like a protein sequencer?"

Roland pointed over to it, "Oh, that's old school tech. This a special atomic forging device that transforms input matter like simple carbon and actively fuses or fissions the atoms to make a desired object. Quite a new invention. I took the liberty to requisition it from our R&D. Let me demonstrate," Roland looked at the replicator, "Computer, Quarian Plums, one medium bowl."

They looked at the replicator as the replicator closed its glass safety hatch. Through its window, they saw a bright flash as the machine pumped carbon dioxide into the chamber. From within, it used force fields and special atomic accelerators to instantly create fusion and fission among the carbon and oxygen atoms in large groups, creating hydrogen to form water or to create the hydrocarbon bonds of the plastic bowl. It then moved and positioned the molecules, advancing up the complexity stage. When it finished, the hatch slid open, showing a bowl of dextro plums, moist and ready to eat.

His jaw dropped, though slightly as he did much to hide the shock on his face, "Amazing. So that's who we're dealing with. I must admit, your race must be very advanced to do that."

Roland chuckled, "It's all show off technology... Please, enjoy the plums. We just added it to our recipe set."

Fedorian stood up and reached over to the replicator and lifted the bowl before going back and sitting back down on his bunk. Roland gestured him to try one, a seemingly genuine smile on his face. He grabbed one with his talons, inspecting it. It could be poisoned he thought, though he guessed he had no choice in the matter.

He ate one, observing the sweet taste of the fruit, but also noting something lacking in it.

"They taste well and all," he said while chewing them, "But I've eaten Quarian plums before. And these just don't have the same taste."

Roland nodded before answering, "I figured as much. The replicators are for nutrition, but sadly not taste. When you flash fission or fusion atoms into food, it never tends to be precise in the exact texture. I guess we can't get everything right."

"How do you have Quarian plums?" asked Fedorian, before he looked up and began to reminisce, "The last time I ate this, I must have paid thousands of credits to this young Quarian couple about sixty years ago for some." He ate another, "Very good though. I'd pay the same amount for some more real ones."

"Well, we made contact with the Quarians just a week ago. They're now poised to join our Federation."

Fedorian ate another plum, "Join your Federation? Fifty thousand ships can be advantageous…"

"Still less than our seventy-five thousand ships."

"Spirits..." he shook his head and looked down on the plums, "So, what will you do with me and my crew?"

"We are bound by our rules of warfare. We will treat you fairly and in the future, we'll see what can be done to bring you back home. On our terms, of course."

"So I can presume my stay will be a while. I doubt the Council will want to negotiate with a power that threatens them."

"My leaders didn't want war, but we didn't receive a good impression of your Citadel Council."

He chuckled a bit from hearing that, "Old people with old ideas. I've lived to see them waste time, resources, and people for fruitless endeavors, while cowering to those who should have been beaten down… Any faults with your government?"

Roland hummed as he thought about it, "Many, I assure you. But all I can tell you is this old saying a leader from my old country on the home world once said, 'Democracy is the worst form of government'."

Fedorian looked at him in confusion, "The worst form of government?"

Roland nodded, "Except for all the rest."

His watch lit up, indicating a message from the bridge. He stood up to properly answer.

He turned around and tapped his watch, "Roland, go ahead."

"Sir, the VIP has arrived, guards are escorting him to your position now."

"Thank you, Commsman. Marines, have the cell across from here readied."

"Yes sir."

Roland turned back to Fedorian, "Now Admiral, I can understand the reasons why you and I fight for our nations. We are soldiers, we serve greater causes. I can respect that. Now I will show you how I feel when I _don't_ care."

* * *

The main doors slid open. Roland turned around to see Balak arrive, an escort of military police beside him as they dragged him on each arm.

"Welcome to the _Brighton_! Please make yourself at home," said Roland as the MPs threw Balak into a cell, opposite of Fedorian's. They then erected a force field and sealed it with the glass hatch. Balak got back up and turned to him.

"What the hell do you want, human?" said Balak, in a deep scratchy voice.

Roland gestured Fedorian to watch as he began his interrogation of Balak, "Well, let see… Oh! I want you to surrender the Batarian Hegemony to the Terran Federation."

"Ha!" he sat down on the bunk, crossed his arms, and laughed at him. Roland, though, wasn't amused. "You think I'm that stupid, I'll never surrender! Besides, we have a chain of command. My voice means nothing!"

Roland rolled his eyes, before a thought came to his mind. He then smiled, and sat down in his chair and rolled up to him, laughing. "Now, now, I don't think you're stupid. Hell, you just proved that to me. You're right about the part of your voice being meaningless in relation to what the Hegemony government does. You're just come lowly Commander... but a famous one still."

Roland turned on a hologram screen with his watch. He grabbed and enlarged it, then moved it, positioning it so he and Balak could see. "You see that? That's an orbital view of the capital city on Khar'shan! Lat'bong or whatever. At the center is where all your leaders are holed up in a bunker, trying to fight a hopeless fight. Admirals, Generals, the Chairman. We asked them to surrender, offered very good terms, even said we let them off the hook for the crimes against all sentient life." He closed his eyes and held his hands open, chuckling, "But they refused…"

The screen switched to a view of the _Brighton_ and a cluster of other ships from the point of view of another ship a few kilometers away. It then dual screened to it and the orbital image of the capital city.

"And now I'm going to do a big favor for you, Commander Balak," Roland's smile disappeared, as he gave a dead serious stare into his top two eyes, "I'm going to make you the head of state..." He raised his watch to his mouth. "Fire!"

In the very moment, the main guns of the cluster of cruisers fired, several, one thousand kilogram rounds, propelled at .35% light speed, came raining down onto the center of the city on the other side of the screen. A huge dust cloud block view for the camera. A confirmation quickly came through from the bridge.

"Admiral Roland. We have confirmation from orbit and from the Army ground side. The capital has been destroyed."

Roland smiled again, chuckling as he stared at Balak, his jaw fully dropped as he stared, his eyes nearly pitch black as the darker pupils in the center dilated. "Congratulations, you're now..."

Fedorian answered, in shock of what Roland did as he stared at them, "Hegemony Chairman…"

"Congratulations, you're now Chairman of the Hegemony! We should celebrate," Roland turned to the replicator in his cell. "Batarian Ale, on the rocks, medium glass."

Ignoring the replicator as it flashed brightly, Balak finally answered, "You… bastard!" He slammed both his first against the force field, only to be electrocuted and thrown back into the bunk.

"I don't get why you're mad. You're now the default leader of the Hegemony. That's what my people call a promotion!"

"So what does this mean for me?" said Balak, before he growled at him.

"Well, we rescued nearly all the slaves on the planet. I must say for even our logistics fleet of over ten thousand ships diverted to the war, you guys enslaved so many people, that caring for them is a logistics nightmare…" He grunted, "Slavery… You disgust me. We got what we really wanted or cared about, so as far as I care, this planet is now worthless to us."

Balak got back up and looked to him, "Wait, what the hell do you mean 'worthless'?"

"I mean that we rescued all the slaves, including your own enslaved people, along with those who joined our cause. Everyone else here… I don't give a suit rat's ass if they die!"

Balak sat there, completely shocked by this man and his race. He only heard of them a week ago when they appeared on the Citadel, and only cared about them when his predecessor, the batarian ambassador, got nuked by them only a few days ago while on vacation. Fedorian himself sat there equally shocked.

Roland leaned over, moving his face towards Balak, only the thin force field and glass separating them. "You will, with the power _we_ invested in you, surrender all of the Hegemony and the Batarian people to the United Terran Federation. And if you don't, we'll just cement our victory by nuking your shit excuse of a home world! Now look me dead in the eye with all four of yours, and tell me that I would not do it!"

Balak stood there, emotionless. But inside, he was scared. This man, this race. They destroyed most of his people's colonies the same way. Their very ideals contradicted his and they were set to wipe them off the galactic map because of it. Balak realized, he was not kidding. Fear struck him as he stared, realizing that Roland would be willing to destroy his own home world if it proved a damn point.

Fedorian looked at Roland, speaking out.

"You're willing to nuke the Batarian home world?" asked Fedorian.

Roland turned back shortly, "I do what my nation wills. After the crimes they committed, they should be thankful we're not on a genocidal spree."

"But to kill billions?"

"Tell me, my Turian counterpart." Roland thought for a moment on what he read of the turians, information he got from General Williams, "That old war your race fought long ago… The Unification War, that's it. How many of your own kind did the Hierarchy allow to die when your colonies fought each other, and in the final battles to conquer them all?"

Fedorian, surprised by his knowledge of the war, thought for a moment, "History placed the statistics at around several hundred million across several dozen years of fighting."

"Well, humanity fought its own version. We quelled a great rebellion on our own home world, just decades ago… I helped kill half a billion, in a conflict of only two years... and I almost couldn't handle myself afterwards. Now, my week long war claimed far more. And I couldn't care less."

He looked at Balak again.

"Another, what? Few billion more won't matter. All statistics to me. But for you?" asked Roland.

Balak closed his eyes. He gave up. "I…" Balak paused a second to think what he was doing. "Ka'hairal Balak, by the power I now wield, as the Chairman of the Hegemony, now order the Batarian Hegemony, and all of the Batarian people, to surrender to the Terran Federation, effective immediately."

He opened his eyes, seeing Roland's watch near his face, a smile on his own. "You did the right thing. Your order has been broadcasted to the entire Hegemony and to wherever we think your forces may still be."

"What have I done?"

"You… you just saved billions from me… on their behaft, and my own, thank you."

Roland's watch lit up, a message from the bridge. He quickly answered it.

"Yes, Hanson?"

"Admiral Roland, the Batarian forces on the planet, they're surrendering to our forces. Reports are coming in across Batarian space. Ships are now surrendering."

Roland nodded, "Thank you, Hanson."

"So now what?" asked Balak, disgusted with himself.

"Well, I should shoot you for being a damn savage slaver, as well as being an ugly four eyed bastard! But since you were very helpful, we'll charge you on lesser crimes and give you a nice cozy lodge to spend the rest of your life in. Somewhere on some unknown planet, my guess." Roland stood up, dusting himself off. He then gestured to the replicator, "Feel free to celebrate the end of the war."

"And the death toll of this war?" asked Fedorian, "Not even the Krogan can remember a time when war claimed billions at a time. How do you handle that?"

Roland looked at him and paused, a plain face on him. He didn't wait long to think of an answer. He had been telling himself the same thing since the Revival. He then realized he wasn't the only one telling themselves the same thing.

"I simply do. Some consider that being lucky. But the fact modern war can kill far more doesn't mean our value for life should diminish. But well… Christ, the death of a close few can scar a man for life. Yet millions to billions just turn into statistics. It seems like a defense mechanism for humans. Maybe for life in general."

Roland shrugged it off and saluted Fedorian before leaving. As he walked away, Balak sat down in his cell seat. He looked to what the admiral called a replicator, thinking what one is.

"What the hell is this?" asked Balak.

Fedorian answered as he resumed to eat more plums, "Some machine that makes food. Try that ale he made."

Balak reached over and grabbed it. He looked at it, smelling it to make sure it was the genuine. He drank it at one go, expecting either some pale imitation or poison.

"Huh… Not bad."

"Ha, you Batarians have no damn taste."

* * *

 _Terran Wikipedia_

 _ **Andrew Roland:**_

 _ **Born**_ _:_ _Andrew Horatio Roland, 21 October 2101; Carlton Hill, Brighton, England, British Star Empire (Age: 66)_

 _ **Allegiance**_ _: United Terran Federation; British Star Empire (Before Unification)_

 _ **Service**_ _: United Terran Navy, Active;_

 _ **Years of Service**_ _: Royal Star Navy (2120-2125); United Terran Navy (2125-Present)_

 _ **Rank**_ _: Fleet Admiral_

 _ **Battles/Wars**_ _:_

2130s Colonial Rebellions

The Great Revival

 _Raid of New Delhi_

 _Liberation of Rome_

 _Occupation of New Yugoslavia_

 _The Fallen Angel Deployment_

 _Order Restoration Campaign_

2150s Colonial Deathworld campaigns

 _ **Awards**_ _:_

 _Order of Merit (British)_

 _Order of the British Star Empire CBE_

 _Terran Ascending Angel Cross 2nd Class_

 _Terran Navy Distinguished Service Medal_

 _Andrew Roland is the Fleet Admiral and head commander of the Terran Navy Second Fleet. Born at the turn of the twenty second century, he served for a short period in the Royal Star Navy during the United Earth years. After Unification, he became a lieutenant in the Federation Navy and has since stayed in, playing several critical roles during the Great Revival. He is the husband of Senior Congresswoman Debra Weatherman and is the son-in-law of Terran, former American, Army General Charles Weatherman. Their children, Samuel Roland and Nora Roland, are actively serving in the Terran Marines._

 _After Unification, he was given a command of the first Quebec Frigates in the Third Fleet and helped suppress far off colonies that attempted to rebel against the Federation. His career at that point was still relatively uneventful until the Great Revival. He served on the Sol Fleet to prevent traffic into and out of Sol during the blackout period. At the climax of the Revival, he was deployed on Earth to defend key locations. He coordinated the Italian Air Campaign, leading to the 5th Army's liberation of Rome from the KCC and IOA with the aid of Field Marshall Weatherman and Field Marshall Williams. Near the end of the war, Roland led the naval operation to rescue downed famed fighter pilot Helen Valenzuela from Jerusalem just hours before the first wave of the deployment of the 'Fallen Angels'. He was was one of the head naval commanders during the deployment of the 'Fallen Angels' Kinetic Bombardment, overseeing the second wave of orbital strikes over Europe. For his service after the end of the Revival, the Federation and the British government awarded him several medals for his service for nation and race._

 _He is known, unofficially, by the Navy brass to be the main leader of the Navy for the traditional - and mandated - inter-service rivalry between the Navy, the Army, and the Marines. He bears a very large grudge against the Marines, even though his own family have a long lineage in the Royal Marines. This is believed to come from the fact he was passed up when he tried joining the Royal Marines in 2120. According to a story by Congressman Weatherman, he was quickly rebounded by a Royal Navy recruitment officer. According to Congresswoman Weatherman, their children joined the Terran Marines to spite him, a common terran military tradition. Given their own accomplishments, he is recorded in an interview to be both 'Proud and irate at the same time."_

 _Last edited 1 May 2167 at 11:11 UTC_

* * *

 _Galactic Codex: Citadel Edition, Galactic Standard Year 2907._

 _ **Fleet Admiral Tiberius Fedorian:**_

 _ **Born**_ _: 2832 GS, 12th day of the Turian Month of Victmas; Miseno, Palavan (Age: 75)_

 _ **Service**_ _: Turian Navy; Council Fleet_

 _ **Years of service**_ _: 2847-Present_

 _ **Rank**_ _: Fleet Admiral, Council Detachment_

 _ **Battles/Wars**_ _:_

The New Rebellion

 _Battle of Gatros_

 _Blockade of Garvug_

 _Battle of Thebia_

The Turian-Batarian War

 _Defense of Taetrus_

 _Battle of Philippi_

 _Quentius' Counter-Offensive Campaign_

 _ **Awards**_ _:_

 _Nova Cluster Medal_

 _Primarch's Merit_

 _Asari Word of Courage Citation (3)_

 _Tiberius Fedorian is the Fleet Admiral in charge of all Turian vessels under direct Council Control. He is the son of late Admiral Nero Fedorian and late Councilor Livia Fedorian. A cadet trained under Junius for a short period, he has been able to prove himself as a skilled officer after numerous tours in the Terminus Systems. Skilled in both military and diplomatic tasks, his skills have earned him an appointment to serve as one of the main commanders of the Council Fleet. He served under then Admiral Cassiud during the battle of Philippi._

 _A leading figure in Hierarchy for reform, he was earned both support and scorn from across the Turian political spectrum. Primarch Cassiud and the main conservative government have clearly no tolerance for him. But many Colonial Primarchs support him and was heavily favored by Primarch Victorio, who's influence is still lasting years after her death._

 _This was most prevalent when he successfully talked down a Krogan terrorist cell during a hostage situation on an Asari colony. His actions divided the political spectrum, the Asari praising his diplomatic ability while his own race criticizing his non-aggressive approach. This overlooking that he led his fleet against several flotillas of Blood Pack that were blockading the colony, destroying their larger fleet with surprising ease._

 _He was transferred to Citadel duty, a reward and punishment. His current position makes him one of the most powerful military figures in the galaxy, but he is isolated from Hierarchy affairs. Council officials and diplomats consider him a blessing though, a Turian that doesn't shoot first, then ask questions. His father was a high ranking admiral from a previous age, but his mother served as the Turian Ambassador during his youth and as the Councilor for fifteen years, being considered influential in Tiberius' development._

 _In his youth, he was accused of being a 'suit rat sympathizer', a very unsavory title during a time of heavy tensions. This came from several source claiming he was associated with several high ranking Quarian criminals in the months that followed the Pilgrim Uprising. But these allegations died down thanks to his connections to high ranking officials. While he stated in an interview that he was forceful on applying Council Law on Quarian vessels, many serving under him claimed he enforced such laws both loosely and unevenly against Migrant Fleet vessels. However, at this point he is a high ranking official in Council and Hierarchy, and is known not to take such comments of him lightly._

* * *

 _ **Terran Wikipedia**_

 _This is for the actual faster-than-light engine. For fictional engines, see Hyperdrive (fictional)._

 _ **Cooper/Bowman Hyperdrive:**_

 _The Hyperdrive in the main form of FTL travel incorporated by the Terran Navy. By tearing a hole through the underlying dimension under normal space, ships can travel through hyperspace and arrive in its corresponding normal space at a quicker rate. Having evolved in the past century, it is employed heavily by the Navy as a mode of transportation, its energy demands making civilian use nearly impossible. However, hyperspace communication systems that evolved from it are heavily used in civilian sectors as well as military._

 _Invented as a replacement just years after the invention of warp drive, hyperdrive revolves on the principal of cross dimensional travel. By opening a dimensional bridge through hyperspace, a dimensional space that corresponds to any point in normal space, a ship can travel the far smaller hyperspace and come out in normal space, having traveled vastly larger distance. An entry and exit point, essentially a Thorne Type wormhole, is created and a ship would maintain a hyperspace stabilization field to travel through hyperspace in what is technically STL speeds. A ship without hyperdrive or loses hyperdrive capability cannot travel in hyperspace and would immediately be kicked out of hyperspace. Modern technology has made sudden hyperspace ejection safe, but structurally straining on a ship and her engines._

 _It was invented by Marie Cooper in the early 2070s as an experiment in discovering extra dimensions. This led to the idea of space travel through other dimensions bisecting normal space. But intensive energy demand made it impractical with fusion energy and was put away. After the discovery of the compound massatantium, kinetic barriers, and antimatter, warp theorist Henry Bowman opened the study for the latest version. In spite his death near the end of the project, the modern hyperdrive was born. Because of the size and structure of the current generation, only larger ships can incorporate hyperdrive. Though it is far faster, warp drive remains the main form of FTL transportation for civilian and smaller military ships._

 _There currently exists debate on where the name for hyperdrive actually came from. No notes by Cooper indicates calling her experimental FTL engine as such, instead referring to the engine as a 'Hyper-tension slipstream' drive. However, research reports and fellow colleagues for Henry Bowman have cited that it was his belief that Marie Cooper as being the source of the name…_

 _Last edited 19 May 2167 at 12:00 UTC_

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

The war is over! Hooray...

Yah, not just yet.  
A simple surrender doesn't solve everything.  
And a certain group of Batarians  
on a little known moon would agree with that.

But for that, the Terrans will make them pay!

Before we get to that though,  
a lot has happen during this contact trifecta.  
No one should get left out.

So stay tune!  
A young Terran Admiral looking to prove himself,  
and a forgotten Asari Matriarch dead set on regaining lost glory,  
duel in front of millions!

Thanks for reading!  
Keep on following,  
And always feel free to review.  
I am always open to comments and questions.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

* * *

Posted on April 29, 2016 - Beta-read by MoonSword1994


	6. 5: Second Impression

**Chapter Five: A Second Impression**

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Here we are, Chapter Five  
(and Six right after)

May has been a hectic month.  
Finals and Semester long Projects,  
That's school for you.

But now, let us continue.  
As the Terrans waged war,  
The _William_ _Clark_ remains in foreign hands.

While the Terrans understand the need for diplomacy,  
Proving their might is of the up most importance,  
So us begin with _proper_ diplomacy.

Because for the Terrans,  
Might is just as good as being Right.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

* * *

 **Part 1:**

 **Senior Officers of the _Clark_ \- Citadel - Five Days since Council Contact  
June 5, 2167 08:30:00 UTC**

 _New York City, UE Headquarters, June 1, 2167 9:00:00 Local Time-_

" _My fellow Terrans. In the past 24 hours, during the great exploration being done by our fleet, by our proud men and women serving, humanity has made First Contact! First Contact with three different alien governments to clarify._

 _Our initial contact, at the early morning of June 1 UTC, was with a species known as the Quarians, a race that suffered from a synthetic rebellion and was driven off their home world. By a lack of care from the galactic community, which I will explain momentarily, they were forced to wonder the galaxy, being in essence, forced to extinction among the stars. After the initial contact, I am proud to say that they are gladly willing to make peace and open a diplomatic relationship with us. In exchange, and by the order of the laws and tradition mandated by the founders of our Federation, we will begin immediate humanitarian aid to help these people._

 _However, I cannot say the same with the next two races we had the luck of meeting. At the same time as we made contact with the Quarian, a scout ship that was exploring the relay network in the Alpha Quadrant stumbled upon the heart of a large galactic coalition known as the 'Citadel Council'. Based upon records transmitted by the ship's AI, when the ship began to make contact, it was fired upon by unknown ships and captured! While we believe this to be an error in communication, ships are being readied to launch a rescue effort to save our captured sailors in unknown lands._

 _But as this goes on, make no mistake. We are, by all indication, at war with a member of this 'Council'. In just the past few hours, our colony of Elysium, who had been readying themselves to celebrate the 42_ _nd_ _year of our galactic unity, was without warning, attacked by a monstrous race known as the Batarians. We now know, thanks to captured records, they had intended to commit the most heinous of crimes against us, by enslaving the local population!_

 _However, thanks to the reaction of the National Guard on the planet, and the ships docked in orbit around Elysium, they were completely unsuccessful in capturing a single Terran and their initial force was completely decimated. At this moment, the very might of our fleet and army is gathering up to take the war to them. While they attack as oppressors and slavers, we shall use our full might of the Terran military to liberate the Batarian Hegemony and bring freedom and liberty to both the races the Batarians have enslaved and even Batarians oppressed by their own government._

 _On this day, the day humanity was united and the Federation was born, we now transition into a new era. We will have enemies, but we will have friends. So my fellow Terrans, stand strong in the face of adversity. Let us showcase the great resiliency of the Terran nation. We have overcome before and we shall overcome now, for the very survival of Freedom, Liberty, Democracy, and Equality, ours and for the galaxy, rest on our shoulders. We shall not fail._

 _Thank you for your time. God save the United Terran Federation."_

* * *

Akachi sat there with Robertson, contemplating. After Peter uploaded himself onto the Citadel's military quantum servers, the captain ordered a surrender to be broadcasted to the Citadel fleet. This time, their message got through and the ships stopped attacking. Council ships quickly docked and boarded his ship, bringing it to dock somewhere called 'Zakera Ward'. For the rest of his crew, they were put in lock up near the ship. But the senior officers were put in some jail in what they deduced as the nicer part of the Citadel, what they heard was called the Presidium. Since then, they waited for an alien to talk to them, with only a basic protein sequencer, a toilet, and boredom as company.

"Man, if I knew I was still going to end up in a jail cell, I would have picked prison time over joining the Navy. I should have listened to Tom," said Robertson.

"Dad always said I should have went into the Army. Too late for that now," replied Donnelly, "Still beats that gang you were in, huh Commander? The Blues?"

"The Reds, Donnelly." He chuckled, "Twenty on Noveria or twelve in the Navy, I thought the choice was obvious. Ten years later, here I am. I should have did what Tom did."

"Forget the Marines, they're overrated. You be stuck at some fuel depot on Eden Prime right now. Here you are instead, some super alien space station."

"Fuel depot sounds nice right about now."

Akachi looked to Robertson. He was watching Donnelly, who was using his kinetics to spin the two golden rank pips from his collar around in midair above his hand. They sat in a cell at the end of a corridor in a C-Sec precinct. In the neighboring cell were Joanna Akira and Chief Engineer Mulan Chikota. As Akira rested in their bunk, Chikota kept pressing against the kinetic barrier.

"This thing is amazing, Captain. Completely invisible, like an energy barrier, but no electric shock."

"This cell is nicer than our brig," said Robertson from the other cell, "And combine that with the fact there's extra guards, it must be for high profile criminals."

Donnelly grunted, "You mean we're high profile POWs. Weird they don't have extra layer of containment. Reminds me of my great, great…" He counted his fingers for a moment, "Something uncle during the British-European War. Lead a Scottish brigade in a three-way battle between them, the Euros, and the Russians."

"How was he captured?" asked Robertson.

"He was playing the bagpipes while riding on top of a tank and fell off. Weirdly enough, that's still allowed in the army. Admiral Donnelly still has them on the _Sol's Gleam_."

Chikota asked, "How big is your family anyway?"

He grabbed the marbles and stood up off the floor, "Big family apparently. Let's see. Part Irish, part Scottish, German, Spanish, Italian, Canadian, Norwegian, French, Polish, Russian. Uh, Jewish, thought that's from my great grandfather's end, so it doesn't count… I think."

"Yah, I just heard one word," said Robertson.

"What?"

"White," said Chikota.

They had a quick laugh at old racial joke, awaking Akira from her nap. They then turned back to their prison cell. Akachi pressed down on it and turned back to Donnelly.

"What's your assessment of the field?"

"Well, I think it's similar to the shields of the alien ships that attacked us. I had to readjust our sensors in combat to detect them. I think they're using a mass effect field to create them. Like the one we use to contain our antimatter reactors," He walked to the barrier and pressed against it, "If only we had a torpedo, then we could escape."

"Of course, Jack. Let's just blow these cells, ourselves and haft the building along with it. That can't fail in anyway," said Chikota as she rolled her eyes.

Akira sat back up on their bunk, "Is he trying to get us all killed again?"

"It's Pacifica on Worker's Day all over again…" She looked over to the corridor from the cell, "Still, we need a fusion reactor to maintain a mass effect barrier. This must use far less electricity. I can't begin to imagine the increase in efficiency if we get their massatanium technology… Hey, one of them steel birds is coming your way."

"Make sure they don't know of our technology," said Akachi.

A Turian walked up to their cells. "Hey, organic Geth. Doctor D'gona wants to talk to you."

Robertson turned to Akachi, "If this ends with a probing, I gladly volunteer… Donnelly."

"Now it's like Pacifica on Worker's day…" sighed Donnelly.

He cued an Asari down the hallway near the entrance to walk over, dressed in a simple, yet colorfully elegant dress that covered her from the bottom of her chin to her feet. She instructed the C-Sec guard that he may leave, to his enjoyment.

"Hey Captain, it's those blue aliens that are all women, uh… Asari, that's it," said Robertson.

"Hot alien babes! I gladly volunteer myself!" Donnelly rushed over to the kinetic barrier, "Finally, the reason I joined the Navy. Here at last!"

Before Donnelly could embarrass himself further, the Captain pulled him back and slapped him at the back of the head.

"My apologies, Dr. D'gona. Officer Donnelly is…"

"A perverted little man," said Akira from the other cell while she got a laugh from Chikota, "Just ignore him."

As Donnelly sat back down in shame, D'gona asked them, "Is your species so… Driven to mate?"

Chikota answered from the other cell, "Just the males, that's how we females control them,"

"Really?" asked D'gona.

Akira interjected, "She's joking. We, as a society, treat each other as equals."

"Ah yes," D'gona said in her smooth calm voice, "We got that from what few records we recovered from your ship. Your race as a habit to joke about nearly everything."

"What?" asked Robertson, "Everyone on this Citadel of yours always so serious?"

"We have comedy, but it seems your race's version is more extensive."

"Wait till you see ours. You'll laugh the blue off your ass," said Akira.

"An expression? Clearly you're not some machine."

Akachi walked up to the barrier and responded, "As organic as the protein pool our ancestors evolved from." He crossed his arms, "So Doctor, why are you here to talk to us? And why after several days?"

D'gona postured herself on the seat across from them, "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Citadel Security Psychologist Doctor D'Gona. I have been instructed to talk with the lead officers of your ship, which would be you five, and to learn exactly who you are. My colleagues wanted to be sure you were not Geth. The average unit can go three galactic days without charging."

"Three days waiting is a bit long."

"Better then shooting you, I assure you."

"I'll take your word. We're well alive. Actually, the sequencer tasted better than our ration bars."

"If you're organic, then I hope you enjoy. Now then, if I may ask some questions…"

"Oh, it's an interrogation. I hear you!" said Donnelly. He began to give out a glow a blueish white as he energized his kinetics, "You won't get anything from me!"

"Oh, your species can yield biotics? Incredible," said D'gona as she noted it on her omnitool.

Robertson punched him in the arm, causing him to lose his focus and de-energize, "Good going Jack, now they know we can have biotics… Wait, Doctor, what the hell is a biotic?"

"Your friend, he is what we call a biotic. They are born after having been exposed to eezo pre-natal and have the ability to manipulate mass effect fields. For example, my entire race, because our entire home world has a large natural supply of element zero, are biotics".

"In the Federation, we call them 'mass kinetics' or kinetics for short. We discovered the link between their ability and massatainium just over thirty years ago," answered Akachi.

"Massatainium? Are you referring to element zero?"

"Oh, is that what you call it? Then yah, that's what we call eezo," responded Donnelly as he sat back down.

D'gona type down all the notes she got them into her omnitool.

"Just thirty years ago you said?"

"Well, since your metal bird friend and that one guy that looked like a salamander most likely got the info from our ship's computer, I might as well tell you some basic history facts that no one will mind if your 'Council' knows. But first, who exactly are you?" asked Akachi.

"I am an Asari. The 'bird' you mention is a Turian of the Turian Hierarchy. They're the main military might of the Citadel Council and alone have the most powerful fleet in the galaxy. The 'salamander' you talk of is a Salarian of the Salarian Union, they are the technological might of the Council and make the backing of our intelligence. My race and collective governments, the Asari Republics, are the founders of the Council and are the political and diplomatic backbone of the Council."

"Is that all?" asked Akira. "I saw this short stubby person when we were escorted here. And that green spider right behind you?"

"The 'short' person was a Volus, an ammonia based life form. The creature behind me is called a Keeper. When my race first discovered the Citadel, they were on it. They maintain the Citadel, but we're still not sure what they are otherwise. There are many races that are regular and associated members of the Council, but we three are the ones who have a full seat on the Council."

"That sounds pretty elitist to have only three races that make the decision for many more."

"The Council has no official power to regulate individual races, but its sway is quite strong. How do your people work?"

"Allow me to explain ourselves," said Akachi. He stood up and walked to the barrier separating them. "We are human, all of us. That is the name of our race. We are military personal of the Terran Navy of the United Terran Federation, a democratic federal republic. We have a democratically elected congress and president."

"And the story of you becoming space faring?"

"Well, about a hundred and four of our years ago, we discovered a way to travel faster than the speed of light, propelling us into a true space faring race."

D'gona interrupted, "That's when you discovered element zero and the mass effect field?"

"Well, no. I won't go into the details for the sake of not being branded a traitor later on, but we have a different way of traveling into the stars. Anyway, upon its discovery, we began to colonize space. Initially, we were still divided among the nation states back on our homeworld. When it was discovered our first major colony that succeeded was due to several colony ships from different nations working together after finding the same planet during exploration, that was enough of a push to unify our race."

"This Federation was born? Tell me what's a 'Terran,' and why isn't it called 'human'?"

"Please ma'am, I'll get to that. No, that was not where the Federation was born, but it was a stepping-stone towards it. We formed the United Earth, unifying the homeworld. Between that time and the Federation, we discovered 'eezo' and the mass relays. 'Terran' comes from an old language called Latin that means 'Earth' or Terra. The phrase is supposed to be political, any sentient person that's a citizen of the Federation is Terran."

"Your Federation is like our Council? How many alien members do you have?"

"Actually, Terran has become a de facto term for human. Only when we found the Citadel did we make First Contact."

"Wait, this is your First Contact?"

Robertson added on, "Yes, and you made a very bad impression at that."

D'gona thought about the comment. It couldn't be right. But she decided to change the topic for the mean time.

"How many colonies did you establish before your race found the mass relays?"

"About fifteen colonies, across two thousand light years; about thirty years of expansion," Akachi paused to notice D'gona's reaction, before continuing, "We then found the relays and began mapping them. Shortly after that, we discovered massatanium."

"Your race, all by itself, spread across that distance without eezo or the relays? That must be an advance FTL you have."

Donnelly interrupted, "First, what's so big about eezo and FTL, we figured out the relays use it, but for us, we only use it for a specific part of our engines."

"Well, for us, we put eezo on our ships to lighten their mass to the point that that our fusion engines can propel it to FTL".

Chikota interrupted, "Wait, you use eezo to cheat Einstein's equation?"

"Could you explain this 'Einstein's equation'?"

Chikota continued, "Well, it comes from one of our most famous scientists. Albert Einstein wrote the equation to the conversion of mass to energy in relation to the speed of light. By its principle, the energy needed to propel a ship of a certain mass to light speed was so great, that you'll need more mass in fuel, meaning more energy and even more fuel. This makes it impossible to reach light speed by regular means. Thus the famous, E=MC2."

"So you believe that that equation scientifically disproved FTL travel?"

"Of course not! It just meant we can't just dump more gas into engines to go faster."

"Your scientist attempted to find a way to travel at FTL speeds?"

"Yah, they came up with many ideas. I won't go into the details, but it basically involved manipulating time and space and such. After about a hundred and fifty years since we first discovered flight, they finally made one work."

D'gona continued typing her notes, "It normally takes several centuries after a race discovers aeronautic technology to even go into space."

Robertson spoke, "Those alive to see the first airplane fly were still alive and well to see us put a man on the moon. Took us surprisingly longer to put a human on our neighboring planet though."

"How did your scientist come upon your form of FTL?"

Akira answered her question, "Well, basically, we made it up."

"You made it up?"

"You see, after science involving space travel became general to our people, science fiction authors began writing novels, TV shows, and movies about humanity traveling into the stars."

"TV, movies?"

"What does your race call it when you capture a moving image and replay it for the sake of entertainment or documenting?"

"We call them vids."

Akira nodded, "Oh, short for video. Must be a translator terminology, but I like our word more but still… So anyway, these writers would use what scientific information was available and make up an engine and tool in their stories that would allow us to trek into space." She giggled a bit at her reference, though D'gona didn't understand it. She continued, "From that, people would read or watch it. A few would become inspired by it and grow up to try and make it real, contributing more knowledge into the field. The cycle repeated until we actually had advanced enough to build it in real life."

Chikota intervene, "Most of our technology for the past two hundred years worked on that principle. It would start off as a made up idea, then someone would attempt to make it real."

"Your race's most recent advancement was the result of a few talented people trying to make some idea they got off some fictional story real?"

"Yes. It's in my belief we are only limited by our imagination, our will, and our budget. They once said flying machines were impossible, and then we made the airplane. They said humanity could never leave the planet, and then we created the rocket. They once said that fusion power was nearly impossible, and then we standardized and minimized it. Then they said creating an abundant amount of antimatter at cheap prices and store it as a fuel was crazy and suicidal, and now every ship we have uses it… though it is still crazy and suicidal to some degree."

"Antimatter, you use antimatter as a fuel?"

"Yes, the _Clark_ is carrying a half kilogram of it right now."

Akachi quickly intervene, "Chief, they don't need to know that."

"Sorry, Captain".

But D'gona was already alerting the C-Sec of the fuel source. After a moment, her omnitool received word from a Salarian officer on board the _Clark_ at the docks. Akachi took note of her immediate worry. Anyone who used antimatter were bound to be smart enough to be able to properly store it for a definitive amount of time. The look of worry on her face gave off the impression she has seen the exact destructiveness of it. He concluded they didn't have antimatter technology, but to worry with such certainty would mean she saw antimatter properly detonated. Or she was just being paranoid over the term.

A Salarian C-SEC officer came in, reporting nothing to indicate it. Helium-3 and an abnormally low amount of deuterium on board. Akachi took note as Chikota breathed out in relief. Peter must have activated the quantum polarizers to turn the antimatter back to matter. Another report from another officer came to her, indicating the complete frying of the ship's systems, parts destroying themselves as they got close to accessing it. The _Clark_ was practically useless to them. But now it was to the Terrans as well.

"Ok officers, double efforts and look out for anything dangerous," D'gona look back at them. "It appears your ship took more damage in the attack."

"It appears so," responded Akachi. "Escaping is going to be harder than we thought."

"I wouldn't advise it. So, where were we?"

* * *

The Commander of the _Destiny Ascension_ sat in her seat in the CIC. The matriarch contemplated as she commanded the might of the Asari Fleet. When she was younger, she rose through the ranks, in a race that normally looked down upon long-term military service. Even then, she became the leading figure of the subtle, yet powerful Asari military; A representation of Asari might.

Now she was a washed up warrior, bested by the rejects of the galaxy. But with her appointment as the Commander of the _Destiny Ascension_ decades ago, Matriarch Lidanya was dead set to regain her glory.

As she waited for her time, a comm officer alerted her to a message from the terminus border. She grunted, knowing who was calling. She waved at her to open the comm to her chair's terminal.

"Admiral. What is it now?" she asked as she stared at her holographic console on her right armrest.

"Lidanya. We are…"

"It is 'Matriarch' Lidanya, Admiral Fedorian." She stared him down, but the Turian paid no mind.

"Yes, yes. Anyway, raider activity has increased fivefold in the last twenty hours. I'm requesting an additional thousand ships to man the border."

She turned away and continued staring out the main viewport to the nebula. The Citadel itself was a small blip, several thousand kilometers away.

"You have five thousand Council ships. A few raiders are not worth moving away from the Citadel."

"These raiders have directly attacked my ships. Based on their area of attack and the tactics use, it appears they are probing my battle strength!"

She rubbed her forehead, "Must be just finding some weak point to raid a colony."

On her screen, Fedorian's mandibles flexed, "This is textbook planning to a larger assault! I need more ships here to shore up defenses. It should get the message clear."

She thought of something and turned back to him, "You know what? Take all the ships you want. Maybe then you'll feel safe and sound in bed."

Fedorian became more annoyed with her aggressive tone, but he kept his cool, "Oh take this seriously. It's one thing we are seeing a peak of activity across the terminus border. And what in the spirits are you doing? What if more of those Geth ships come back through the traverse? They took out two cruisers in minutes!"

Lidanya brushed her hand at the screen, "They aren't Geth. They're some kind of hairless pyjack."

"Pyjacks?"

"Oh yes. Boarded their little craft when they surrendered. They look more like the Asari really. I think they had five fingers, smooth skin." She looked away and remembered when she boarded the small Terran ship. "Two gendered through unfortunately. Their men reminded me of the Batarians, with two eyes poked out. Oh but their women, now there's something."

Fedorian rolled his eyes, "Great. So they been transferred to a military installation?"

"Uh, oh no. I sent them to C-Sec. They don't seem like a threat. The Council wants to examine them."

"Examine? They are enemy combatants from clearly a powerful race. They had weapons that obliterate our cruisers with ease!"

"Just luck. I've seen more ships lost from sheer incompetence."

Fedorian shook his head and talked under his breath, "Coming from you, that's not hard to believe."

Lidanya turned back to her screen, "What?"

"Nothing. So the fleet?"

"Yes, yes. I'm sending two Asari fleets and three of your own from the Citadel. With the _Ascension_ and seven thousand here, these pyjacks won't be a threat. Though tell me Fedorian, when were a band of pirates ever a real threat to Council?"

He rubbed his eyes, "An inconvenience today is a threat tomorrow. We saw that with the uprising, the rebellion, and the war. As for those pyjacks, has C-Sec interrogated them at least?"

"At some point. But you know the Council. You can put a gun to their head and they'll be too deep in bureaucracy to even realize it."

"Well. Pyjack or robot, those were Hierarchy ships they destroyed. When the Council gets off their asses, send me their findings. Primarch Cassiud has made finding where this race comes from his top priority."

She chuckled, "Cassiud, that idiot. Well, just don't get caught up."

He gave a short chuckle as well. "I bet that advice comes from experience?"

She stared at him, momentarily enraged before she calmed herself. "You know. There was one thing about the pyjacks that struck me."

"Yes?"

"I think you'll come to like them."

Fedorian looked at her in confusion, "What do you mean?"

"They had some hair… On their head…

Fedorian hesitated for a moment. "Head full… of hair?"

She smiled, "Like those suit rats you just loved, huh? You rat sympathizer!"

He yelled out, "What in the spirits did you call me you? You incompetent Asari whor…"

She cut the line and rested back in her seat, giggling to herself.

* * *

 **Part 2:**

 **Doctor D'gona - Presidium  
June 5, 2167 12:00:00 UTC**

The interview went on for a while, with most of the questions being of general facts. D'gona used it though as a platform to get more detailed information of humanity from them. Unfortunately for her, the humans kept their mouths sealed on such cases, simply describing basic facts about them, the info border lining on the obscured.

None the less, the information came to surprise her, such as how they had only spent less than a hundred years as a spacefaring race, and that their maximum life span was constantly being increased, though she wasn't sure if they were serious about it. Robertson mentioned though that in spite the Department of Health stating that humanity can now live up to two hundred and fifty years, the oldest human was still only a hundred and forty-five. He even joked that either they're using some advance mathematics to get that number or their own government was making it up. When D'gona asked how the humans view their government, Donnelly put it in an odd idiom as, _we spend the first half of our lives fighting 'The Man', then the latter half being 'The Man'_.

After the interview, D'gona left to a café on the Presidium, compiling the notes she had gained from what they had described as a 'friendly interrogation'. A friend of hers, a Turian by the name of Georgius Helvius greeted her as he took a seat across from her.

"Hey, how you doing?" He asked as he sat down.

"Fine, just going through my notes for research," she said, her eyes stuck on the holo screen of her omnitool the whole time.

"Didn't C-Sec assign you to examine those aliens that engaged the Citadel fleet a few days ago?"

She turned her eyes away and looked towards him, "Now how would you know that? That's being kept secret by the Council."

"A friend of mine told me, a Shadow Broker agent." He explained. "You got to tell me who they are. I mean their ship was a fraction the size of our cruisers and yet they destroyed two of them with ease!"

"Now Georgius, I can't simply tell you that," she sipped her energy tea, and kept typing.

He chuckled, "I get it. The Council wants this secret. A buddy of mine in C-Sec thinks they're Geth. To think they can have small ships that can do that much damage."

"All I'm going to tell you is that their 100% organic," she said, giggling herself as she shook her head.

Georgius leaned forward, "Come on, what else about these people?"

"They think your race is some kind of metallic bird."

"Well, we do have traces of thulium in our skin. Anything else?"

"No more Georgius, I need to compile my work to report to the council".

He raised his arms in surrender. "Fine, you win. You still good for our Armax match with the Volus team next week?"

She looked up at him, "Yes, I'm looking forward to it."

"Great. I can't wait myself. They came right out of nowhere the past month. You gotta wonder how they can fight so well."

"So do I," D'gona said, though thinking of someone else.

Helvius stood up, "Well since you're busy. I'll talk with you later Dorsi." Then he walked off.

"These humans," she whispered to herself, "If only I learned more from him…"

* * *

"Akira, is the coast clear?" asked Akachi.

She responded, "Yes sir, just that giant green spider fixing a panel."

"Good. Peter, what's the sit rep?"

On an overcomm, a soft voice spoke, "The _Clark_ is impounded on the ward, a few levels directly down from here. Like they said, I fried just about everything and encrypted the rest. If we escape, we'll need naval support. The only systems working are basic life support, a backup battery, and maneuvering thrusters. We won't get even a few kilometers from the docks."

"Can you use their systems to send a distress?"

"I figured out their FTL comm system and manage to hijack it. They use miniature mass relays to mass free their signals and communicate across the galaxy. I sent a message to Earth, but given the type of systems, it's only one way. They can't respond, but I've instructed them to wait for when we begin our breakout."

Robertson looked up, "And you have properly masked your data pathways this time?"

"Yes, sir. As long as their ITs doesn't realize haft of their programs are being run on a virtual machine based off my lower OS systems, we should be good."

Akachi nodded and turned to them, "Good job, Peter. Ok gang, when should we raise hell?"

Akira answered, "I notice their guard number lessens during the 'night' period on the Presidium, lasting three hours."

"How long till the next one?"

"About four hours from now," replied Peter.

"Peter, send word, we need evac in four hours, ask them to distract the Citadel fleet while we'll try to get the crew and ship."

"Yes sir, I'll send it now."

"Ok, so here's the plan."

* * *

 **Part 3:**

 **Admiral Hackett - Arcturus  
June 5, 2167 15:00:00 UTC**

Steven Hackett stood at the viewport of his ready room, staring out into the void as he pressed his fist against the meter-thick glass and leaned his head on his fist. Outside in the void in the Arcturus System was the 1st flotilla of his Fifth fleet. At thirty-three, he was the youngest man to be promoted to the rank of Fleet Admiral. In general, he was one of the younger flag officers in the Navy.

To command a Terran fleet was like commanding an entire Navy unto itself. Ten thousand ships, a dedicated logistics core, nearly ten million service members and nearly a million Marines. He had a staff of nearly several hundred flag officers, over two-thirds older than him. Though he was young, he was considered a 'tactical genius', leading a cadet squad as a teenager during the Revival and against hostile wildlife during the Death world campaigns. In his career as an officer, he was trained by the post-revival generation of admirals, including Fleet Admiral Roland and Valenzuela, heroes of their own time. Ascending the ranks from a youth cadet, through the enlisted, and up the officer core to admiral, his ascent from an orphan to one of the most powerful people in the Federation made him a household name. Throughout the early sixties, he was the poster boy for recruitment.

Hackett took his formal cap off and scratched his head. He felt the pressure on his young self though. He may have gone from soldier to officer, but he was young in comparison to those who have been in the service since unification. All his older counterparts saw action during the most brutal battles during the Revival. He was green by comparison and while he had support from some, he was well dismissed by the main military brass. Another example of the Navy giving away promotions, they would argue. But Hackett was set to break from his useless poster boy status. The time had come to really prove himself. He had received the orders. He was to personally lead a strike force, and save the _William Clark_. Naturally, though there was a catch.

A message came through from the bridge, "Admiral Hackett. Admiral Roland and Valenzuela are comm line 2, Priority 3."

"Patch them both in, Commsman."

He turned around as their holograms appeared, first by Roland, then by Valenzuela. Both wore their standard operation uniform. It was a short sleeve navy blue collar shirt with a thin padding of rectangular Kevlar blocks around their body and the Naval emblem on their left chest, the same as everyone else aside from the five solid pips in a golden hollow bar on their right collar to denote their rank. Hackett, though, preferred to wear his formal blue uniform at all times. Hackett and Roland turned to Valenzuela and saluted her first, as she was a recipient of the Star of Terra. She saluted back and they all took their seats.

"Roland, Valenzuela. Thank you for meeting me," said Hackett as he sat in his desk.

"Of course," said Roland as both sat in his guest seats, "You seem worried. So? This big mission you're on?"

"I am to save the _Clark_." He said, not sure of what to make from his words.

Roland chuckled, "I'd do it myself, but I'm currently busy with someone else at the moment."

"I don't see what's hard about that," said Valenzuela, "If Roland's performance is any indicator, these aliens are complete push overs."

"No kidding. He's charging his fleet right through an entire alien nation," said Hackett.

"Yes, but they attacked us first," said Roland, wagging his finger, "And they're slavers, so it's justified. This galactic council should thank us for saving their people. I wonder what alien medals look like."

"Reminds me of my great granddad's stories of his tour in Korea during the 2040s. There was no competition," said Valenzuela.

Roland thought for a moment of his original orders and why he was attacking with such power. "Uh, yes well… you should never underestimate your enemy. The Empire and the Russians both attacked Merkal's Union at the same time. We all learned in the Academy how that went."

He stood up and walked around his desk to them, "I have spent the last three days studying to avoid that same mistake."

Hackett opened the holo-emitters on his desk and displayed the Citadel and his attack plan across the room between him and the older admirals. His main ships, consisting of his flagships and battle cruisers, formed a plane, a three-dimensional battle line. On each side of the plane at the perspective top, bottom, left, and right was a few hundred smaller vessels in standard combat flotilla formation. Surrounding them all was the pinkish artificial space cloud.

"A standard 'hand-grab' formation," commented Valenzula.

"You would think." He sat on his desk and pointed at each attack force. Each had a symbol over their representing avatar. "Shield: These hundred will take the front plane, at a thousand kilometers from the station. 'Council' tactical doctrine makes them top priority, given their size. At these distances, they won't be able to fight effectively at close range, but we can.

Sword: I will have an additional thousand split into four taskforce groups, here and here. They're fast and will 'attack' the Citadel for different angles. It's should draw a majority of the Council fleet from swarming my ship.

Hammer: When their lines thin, _Thunder Child_ will make for here…"

He grabbed the Citadel and zoomed in to the presidium ring and the tower, "We get to the _Clark_ here, secure her in our docking bay, and we rush out to the fold. If we get our ship within the perimeter of the Citadel, they won't risk chasing us in."

The admirals took a look of the battle plan from their point of view, scrolling through it on their own desk. Valenzuela turned to him, "These diversion plots take your smaller ships close to the outer arms of the station."

"Intel says its Prothean tech. Thick as hell. But flying along the walls should discourage them from opening fire and risk destroying it."

Roland looked through the plan from his end, drawing his conclusions. He turned to Valenzuela, who nodded in agreement.

"Anything else?"

He pointed over to his fleet, "Lastly, I have been given approval and the quantum acess keys to allow our synthas to utilize neural chaining. It should take out haft the fleet right off the bat. I also requisitioned some new tech from R&D."

"Better be good. We're letting them run away with our budget."

"I think you'll like the new tech their developing."

"And still," said Valenzuela, "Besides being outnumbered nearly ten to one, you hold all the advantages."

Roland nodded, "Intel suggests Council doctrine is just a more refined version of Batarian doctrine. They fight from far with their quicker, long-range guns. We fight better up close with our more powerful ones."

"If this was a simple blast my way in and blast my way out, but…"

The comm device on Hackett's desk went off, drawing all their attention. "Admiral Hackett, President Bowman is on line 1, Priority 1."

"Patch him in," said Hackett, "I'll explain later…"

"No need!"

They all turned as Bowman's hologram quickly assembled in front of them as the operation plan disengaged. They all stood up to salute him as he appeared. He quickly saluted back and continued.

"Hackett. Have your ships been retrofitted?"

"All ten of my Flagships, ninety of the newest _Norfolk_ battle cruisers. Their guns stripped, loaded with five times the hull plating, and triple the energy shield emitters installed."

"Good. Roland, Valenzuela, I trust what you two are doing is going well?"

"Currently en route to the Roma system. ETA two hours."

"The Batarians have fallen back to Khar'shan. Currently establishing a forward base at the outskirts of the Harsa System… And what this about your mag guns being stripped?"

Bowman turned back to Hackett, "You haven't told them?"

"I was about to…"

"Well simply put. Our Admiral Hackett here is to retrieve the _Clark_ and return, without firing a single offensive shot."

Both older admirals stood back up from their seats, Valenzuela speaking out first.

"There are over ten thousand enemy ships. How the hell is he supposed to get pass that if he can't fight back?"

Bowman chuckled, "The Council fleet… We saw how the aliens fight."

Roland spoke out, "The Batarians may be weak, but you're sending Steven here against a galactic coalition! If he doesn't strike first, he will be destroyed!"

"Enough!" Hackett slammed his fist against the table. "Mr. President, explain the whole plan."

"Of course, Admiral." Bowman pressed a button on his watch, updating the battle plan and giving the admirals of the Second and Fourth full access to the Fifth's. "With access to Batarian and Quarian comm buoys, we have… organized a 'situation' that should draw ships away from the Citadel."

"A situation?"

"Like a fake report of a massive attack across the Council's northern border. Military intelligence calls it Operation: Maiden."

Hackett continued, "We expect a drop in Council forces. Actually, they should be surging a major portion of their fleet through the relays to the 'Terminus' border this very moment. If significant enough, they won't have the firepower to do damage to my ships."

"Don't be naïve, Hackett," scolded Roland, "You are playing with lives here. Throwing yourself at them proves nothing."

"On the contrary," replied Bowman has he held his hand up, "The Citadel Council has been the definitive might of the galaxy. So they think, anyway. We will come in, we will get back the _Clark_ , and all while the Council is unable to stop us. If they can't stop us, we will be viewed as being invincible."

"And if he gets killed, if we lose a flagship or two, we look like weak idiots!" said Valenzuela.

"Now, now," Bowman turned to Hackett and patted him on the shoulder, though Hackett wasn't comforted by it, "Hackett is far more than capable of pulling this off. You two placed so much faith in him. Now, so will I."

"And we can't prove our invincibility by destroying them? I can have half of my carriers here in a few hours and turn the Citadel into a Terran beehive."

Bowman turned to them, "Simple admirals. We need to prove, in the most civil manner possible, given the circumstance, that we are superior! They don't know Roland's war is even happening. So we will strike and make them fear us! And when the time comes we come to the table and talk this out, we'll let the fact we can do what we want to do be an ingrain fact in them. The Skyllian Blitz being but a demonstration to it."

The senior admirals stared at their Commander-in-Chief in disbelief of his plan. Bowman stared back, seemingly un-phased. He turned to Hackett and nodded to him.

"You're clear to commence with our _Second Impression_. God speed."

The line quickly cut and his holo disappeared, leaving the admirals. Valenzuela and Roland turned back to Hackett, arms crossed as he leaned against his desk and contemplated. Roland turned to speak, but Hackett raised his hand and stopped him.

"I can understand where Bowman is coming from," said Roland, "But this is insane."

"But a chance…" He pounded his fist into his palm, "I can prove my worth as a fleet admiral!"

"This isn't military strategy. It's a stunt. Bowman… appears to be underestimating them," said Roland.

"I will bring my fleet and the _Clark_ home. I have no doubt… I hope neither of you have any as well."

"You have our trust," Valenzuela sighed, "Just don't die doing so, Steven. Just bring the _Clark_ home. Your crew home. Yourself home."

"Yah… of course. Helen, Andrew."

"Steven."

* * *

They both disengaged, leaving Hackett to his notes. Hackett took the tablet he was reading and walked out of his room and on to the bridge of the _Thunder Child._

At the command table in the middle of the bridge, his officer staff continued preparing the flotilla he was sending in. There, his aid Lieutenant Commander David Anderson turned to address and salute him, calling the rest of the bridge into attention.

"Admiral on the Bridge!"

Hackett saluted to him as he walked over to the command table. "Well Anderson, you ready to make history?"

"If you say so, sir. Rather being the ones fighting than standing there taking punch after punch," he replied as he brought up a holo image of the flotilla.

Hackett chuckled to himself as he brought up the fleet on the table, "There's two ways to render an enemy useless, destroy them, or make it clear they can't hurt you".

Anderson nodded, "If you say so, Admiral."

Hackett activated the communication system from the console. A whistle played, alerting the crew of all ships to a fleetwide broadcast.

"This is Fleet Admiral Steven Hackett. By order from President Jonathan Bowman, we will begin Operation: Second Impression, the rescue operation of the _William_ _Clark_. In fifteen seconds, we will be entering a Transwarp fold and enter the heart of Citadel Council space, the Citadel station itself. All ships be aware of your orders. Defensive weaponry live only. Ready yourselves for the might of the galactic powers. All ships, ready shields and armor polarization to maximum. It's time we proved that we are so as well. Let's get the _Clark_ and her crew home. Good luck to you all. God Speed!"

He turned to Anderson, "Alert starbase 5, prepare the Transwarp Conduit."

Anderson brought up his holo console and sent the orders. An alert appeared on Anderson's holo console. He turned to Hackett, "The Transwarp conduit near Starbase 5 has been activated, a fold is now opening up."

He continued the fleetwide broadcast, "All ships, half ahead."

They all moved out, in formation on a 2D plane, slowly entering the fold, which appeared as a large gash in space. This time around, the gash of the artificial nebula could be seen from their end. To anyone onboard the ships, it would appear as if they walked from one side of a room to the other. The difference in surrounding would appear immediately without warning. The ships formed up and moved through, ready to spread out once through. In that moment, the flotilla arrived, the Citadel and the pinkish gas of the Serpent Nebula in their sights. Hackett ordered the _Thunder Child_ 's Command AI Matthew to begin hacking into the Citadel, to broadcast their message and find the _Clark._

* * *

With nearly everything in the Presidium being artificial to some degree, its sky was false too. Night being set to occur for a few hours every day by darkening the artificial sky, to create the appearance of night. At dawn, light from the nebula would come in to create the skies of a Thessian day. As the night cycle began, many left for home as the night patrol began across the Wards. A few stayed in behind in the C-Sec headquarters, catching up on last minute work.

In the jail section, a single guard stood there at the hallway entrance, his back turned against them. Robertson looked over from their cell.

"Peter, now!" whispered Robertson. With the command, the barrier for their cells disappeared. They quickly rushed the guard, incapacitating him and throwing him in their cell. Akachi reached over and grabbed his rifle.

"So how do their guns work? Do they have lasers?" asked Donnelly, before the lead block fell out and landed on his boot.

"No Jack," said Peter, before laughing from the nearest intercom from them, "They work on a principle similar to ours, but use massatanium to fire sand grain rounds, in comparison to ours shredding marble sized rounds. They don't require batteries to reload, but they need to disperse heat before firing again. Their weapon lockers and your watches are in the room to the left."

They quickly ran to the room, armoring up and activating their energy shields from their watch and belts. They grabbed what weapons were lying around and Donnelly grabbed his biotic amp before they left.

"You'll need to make your way to the main lobby and take the elevator down to the Wards. I've disabled alarms to clear the way."

"But how many of them bird Turians are there?" asked Akira.

"Twenty in the room. I hacked their omnitools and took down their 'kinetic barriers'. But they are still armed."

"The doctor said they were the military elite of the galaxy, right? Well, we have our work cut out for ourselves, being Navy and all," said Akachi as he calibrated his rifle. "Ok then, you and Robertson go right and flank them through this corridor, we'll go down the main hallway and hit them straight on."

* * *

 **Part 4:**

 **Doctor D'gona - Presidium  
June 5, 2167 16:00:00 UTC**

D'gona, resting in her apartment, looked through the regular news reports. Having had more tea than she should, she kept watching while looking through the report she had sent to the Council, hoping the boredom would push her to sleep. On screen, a Turian anchor finished up his report.

"… with Hierarchy lead council forces currently on route to handle a suddenly flux of attacks from pirates along the terminus border. Though these spikes have created concern due to close proximity to Illium and the trade network, Councilor Tevos have assured that the diversion of the main fleet was simply a precaution. Back to you A'sora."

"Thank you, Livius. We now have a new development occurring along the perimeter of the Citadel. Taking to you live, Joplin Morris on our Ward Traffic shuttle!"

A Salarian appeared on screen, on board a shuttle outside of the Citadel. As the shuttle made way to the news attraction, its door opened up, a kinetic barrier holding the atmosphere in. "Thank you A'sora."

"What is going on?"

"Well, there appears to be this unusual phenomenon, appearing just a thousand kilometers from the Citadel, near the relays. It is believed, using high-grade science sensors, that it is some kind of temporal fold in space, according to our in-house scientist. Initial scan indicates a pocket of space beyond the fold." He placed his finger to his ear to hear something, "C-Sec has now issued a warning to stay away from the fold."

"Do we know why it has occurred?"

"We still have no info into that. People have already begun petitions to the Council to send ships to look into the matter."

As he finished his sentence, D'gona stood up to notice something coming out of the fold. The Asari on the screen also notice. She spoke to the reporter.

"Joplin, do you see what's coming out of the fold?"

"I now see it... Oh my, it looks like a ship… Wait, now another one is coming out. Ten more to the far left. The size of that first one is huge, it nearly the same length as the _Destiny Ascension_."

"Who are they, are they related to the ship that destroyed the two cruiser days ago?"

"I'm checking my sources right now for their IFF signals… Confirm, they are giving out the same signal on the same frequency band."

"It looks like tens more are coming out of the fold."

"The size of their ships… if I had to guess, the smallest so far are nearly twice the size of my race's dreadnought. And there's near…y hunr…eds of tho…se"

"Joplin, we're losing feed, can you hear…"

The news feed cut off entirely, static filling her screen. D'gona checked to see why her signal was cut, but her omnitool reading indicated her signal was fine. Then, something new came on screen.

It's was a still image of what she might guess was a flag. The back color was a royal blue. In the middle was a simple, yet seemingly clear design of their barred spiral galaxy. Surrounding both sides of it was a branches of some plant, elegantly blending with the galaxy image, as if the whole design was a logo. D'gona's eyes widened as she slowly started to recognize the image. She read the words on the bottom, her visual translators somehow rearranging it. She looked to her omnitool to see what language it was. She read from it, 'Terran English'. She then realized that was what those human spoke, but this version was downloaded without her knowing seconds ago. She read the screen. It read 'United Terran Federation'.

She then realized what was happening and rushed off her couch. She changed into her outside clothing and dash towards the door, making her way to the elevator, leaving her screen on.

As she left, an audio played.

" _Citadel Council citizens. This is the United Terran Federation. Please return to your homes or shelter immediately. A rescue operation is currently underway. Please comply and remain indoors to ensure your safety. Repeat. Citadel Council citizens…"_

* * *

 _Terran Wikipedia_

 _ **Steven Hackett:**_

 _ **Born:**_ _7 November 2134, Caballito, Buenos Aires, Argentina,_ _Confederación de América (Age: 33)_

 _ **Allegiance:**_ _United Terran Federation_

 _ **Service:**_ _Terran Navy, Active;_

 _ **Years of Service:**_ _United Terran National Guard (2148-2150); United Terran Navy (2152 -Present)_

 _ **Rank:**_ _Fleet Admiral_

 _ **Battles/Wars:**_

The Great Revival

Anti-Insurgence Campaign

Anti-Communist Offensive Campaign

Anti-Nazi Counter-Offensive Campaign

2150s Death World Campaigns

 _ **Awards:**_

 _Argentinian Distinguished Service Order (Knight)_

 _Terran Purple Heart_

 _Terran Silver Star_

 _Terran Bronze Star_

 _Terran Navy Distinguished Service Medal_

 _Terran Naval Academy Cadet Valedictorian_

 _Steven Hackett is the Fleet Admiral and Head Commander of the Terran Navy Fifth Fleet. One of the highest ranking officials in the Terran Navy, he is also one of the youngest in the Naval Brass. During his early years of his service, he led the expeditions to colonizing several key, and dangerous worlds in the far ends of the Beta Quadrant and in remote places from the relay network. In 2165, he was promoted from the top officer candidates in Roland's second fleet to command the newly constructed Fifth Fleet._

 _Born in 2134 in Buenos Aires, he joined the Terran Youth Advance Cadet Academy after the passing of his mother in 2146. He served as a Terran youth advisor for the Terran 13_ _th_ _Militia for Argentina during the Revival, seeing combat in anti-insurgence operations. He ended up seeing combat when the militia launched a counter offensive to retake Puerto Deseado, which was under contention from both Communist and Nazi forces. Leading a youth squad, he was awarded by the nation-state for his quick actions during combat to retake the city._

 _In 2150, in spite receiving several commendations, he was passed up for entrance to the Naval academy and joined as an enlisted position, placed quickly as a petty officer in the Terran Navy. Naval rumors placed it that he caught the attention of Fleet Admiral Roland and quickly ascended the ranks. This was however to be merited when receiving an on field commission to lieutenant after saving several colonists from a giant worm attack. He entered the academy in '55 and quickly graduated a year later as Valedictorian._

 _He was later transferred to Fleet Admiral Valenzuela's command where he continued his training in star fighter deployment and combat, the Fourth Fleet's specialization. There, he served as Captain of the Bernardino Rivadavia and formalized the first recorded tactical use of a transwarp relay. After returning to the second, he was given the promotion to command the newly constituted Fifth Fleet. Given his young age, he has been dismissed by numerous military analyzers for his lack of experience, believing his promotion to be a political ploy. Only time will tell how his career will play out under his new position._

 _Lasted Edited 4 June 2167 14:00 UTC_

* * *

 _Galactic Codex: Citadel Edition, Galactic Standard Year 2907._

 _ **Destiny Ascension:**_

 _ **Operators:**_ _Asari Navy/ Council Fleet_

 _ **Length:**_ _4256 meters;_

 _ **Width:**_ _2798 meters;_

 _ **Height:**_ _3405 meters_

 _ **Commissioned:**_ _2877 GS_

 _ **Homeport:**_ _Citadel Military Drydocks_

 _ **Motto:**_ _Ascending the Stars towards Destiny_

 _ **Class & Type:**_ _Destiny Ascension Dreadnought_

 _ **Crew:**_ _Approx. 10,000_

 _ **Propulsion:**_

 _Forty Lucen Fusion Reactors._

 _Four Type-3 mass effect cores_

 _One central Type-5 mass effect core_

 _Nine Atheme Anti-Proton Thrusters_

 _ **Armament:**_

 _One Parnitha Type-10 Dreadnought Mass Accelerator Gun_

 _One hundred Type-2 High Capacity Infrared GUARDIAN Lasers_

 _Twenty Type-5 Broadside Mass Accelerator Gun_

 _ **Aircraft Capacity:**_ _50 (All currently on loan and crewed by Hierarchy Pilots)_

 _The Destiny Ascension is the flagship of both the Navy of the Asari Republics and the Unified Citadel Council Fleet. The largest ship constructed by the Council races, the ship is considered one of the most powerful ships to have been created. Plans for the ship have been on the board for two centuries. Its construction began in 2874 at the height of the Turian-Batarian War._

 _The ship was once considered a pipe dream. The last attempt to build a ship over two kilometers in length lead to a disaster via the Turian Dreadnought Caesar nearly four hundred years ago. It was considered architecturally unsound at 3.1 kilometers, and the prototype failed during FTL testing, killing all hands. Learning from the mistakes and using the most advance in mass effect force fields, the Ascension was to make up for all those mistakes, scaling up the solutions for a ship twice the length and overall five times larger. It was not taken seriously though until the deployment of the Council Fleet in quelling the Quarian Pilgrim Uprising. After Matriarch Lidanya's failed pursuit and the loss of two Asari dreadnoughts from tactical error, the Asari felt it needed to have a ship that could project the true might of the Council while also being able to showcase it._

 _Construction finally began during the Turian-Batarian war. Part of the Batarians' main plans was to quickly try and rush Turian space before the Asari reinforced them with it, but existing Council ships provde able to prevent any significant push by them. The Destiny Ascension has since ensured the might of the Council, considered at least as strong as the Asari Dreadnought fleet combine. No plans exist to build a second ship, though the Asari are more than capable of doing so. In some criticism by the Turians and warhawk Asaris, Matriarch Lidanya was given command of the ship._

* * *

 _Galactic Codex: Citadel Edition, Galactic Standard Year 2907._

 _ **Matriarch Lidanya:**_

 _ **Born:**_ _2065 GS, 3_ _rd_ _day of the Asari Month of Attico; Spatana, Thessia, Age: 842_

 _ **Service:**_ _Asari Unified Navy, Council Fleet_

 _ **Years of service:**_ _2125-Present_

 _ **Rank:**_ _Fleet Admiral, Head Commander for the Council Fleet._

 _ **Battles/Wars:**_

The Terminus Campaign

Defense of Mannovia

Evecuation of Esan

The Pilgrim Uprising

Citadel Bombings

Cyone Incident

Tuchunka Insurgence

Battle of Korlus

The Turian-Batarian War

Quentius Counter-offensive

 _ **Awards:**_

 _Asari Atheme's Shield (2)_

 _Salarian Silver Dagger_

 _Matriarch Despoina Lidanya is the Head Commander of the Asari Republics Unified Navy. Born to a famed Asari veteran of the Krogan Rebellions and a high ranking Turian general, Lidanya served as the head of the Asari Navy during her Matron years and has since been the de facto leader of the Council fleet since 2775. After the disaster in leadership in the Quarian Pilgrim Uprising, she was suspended indefinitely from command, a suspension that lasted nearly thirty years._

 _At the age of 60, she enrolled into the Spatana Council's Biotic Commando training program, gradating top of her class ten years later. In her maiden years, she excelled as an elite commando, tasked with the anti-piracy missions along the border of the Terminus systems. She was awarded for her actions in the break up two slave trafficking rings, four drug rings, and the elimination of two Ardat-Yakshi in her early career._

 _In her matron years, she turned down two invitations to join the Council Spectres, opting instead to take command of the Unified Asari Navy. Quickly after her appointment, she was made into Head Commander of the Council Fleet. Her role as commander saw a large increase in Asari militarization, but was heavily opposed by traditional Asari._

 _During the Pilgrim Uprising, she was tasked with the apprehension of war criminal Zaren'Vali and his accomplices, Miri'Ghirn and Faunz'Reeger after the bombing of Bachjret Ward. However, in what is currently deemed as uncontrolled aggression of her power, she failed to properly capture them. In her chase, she was blamed for destroying parts of the Asari colony of Cyone, disrupting economic traffic around Illium, and dragging half the entire Council fleet away from defense assignments to capture them, resulting in increased raids along the Terminus border. This ended with a massive showdown with Blood Pack forces and the destruction of numerous ships, including two Asari dreadnoughts over Korlus. She was suspended for her command, opening the way for the rise of Turian Commander Marcus Junius as head of the Council Fleet._

 _Her suspension also marked the end of Asari dominance in the military arena as the Turians reassert their control of council space. After the death of Junius in the Battle of Philippi, she was reinstated to help drive Batarian forces from Hierarchy space. Even as head commander again, she is unofficially supervised by her new Turian counterpart, Admiral Tiberius Fedorian._

* * *

 _Terran Wikipedia_

 _(This is for the United Terran Navy ship 'FSS Thunder Child'. For other ships, see Thunderchild.)_

 _ **FSS Thunder Child:**_

 _ **Operators:**_ _Terran Navy, Fifth Fleet_

 _ **Serial Number:**_ _1898_

 _ **Classification Code (CC):**_ _Flagship (FG)_

 _ **Length:**_ _4025 meters;_

 _ **Width:**_ _750 meters;_

 _ **Height:**_ _800 meters_

 _ **Commissioned:**_ _21 September 2165_

 _ **Homeport:**_ _Arcturus Fleetyard_

 _ **Motto:**_ _Low in the water, steaming headlong;_

 _There laid Thunder Child!_

 _ **Class & Type:**_ _Average Class Flagship_

 _ **Crew:**_ _Approx. 3,500_

 _ **Propulsion:**_

 _Fifty LeForge Fusion Reactors._

 _One superstructure Bowman Antimatter Core (ten thousand micro reactors)_

 _Two hundred kilometers of Warp Space manipulation rods, coiled_

 _One hyper-dimension Hyperdrive Navigation System_

 _Eight Barkley Antiproton thrusters_

 _ **Armament:**_

 _Three Nordenfelt Magnetic Accelerator Guns_

 _One Hundred and Eighty Point Defense Phaser Turrets_

 _Forty-five Torpedo Launchers_

 _ **Aircraft Capacity:**_ _50_

 _The Federation Starship Thunder Child is the seventy fifth Flagship to be commissioned to the Terran Navy as part of the Militarization Act. She is the one hundred total Flagship built by the Terran navy. Named in honor of the fictional Naval ship Thunder Child, the Thunder Child was the last ship officially completed for the Fifth Fleet. She is also the last of the Average Class Flagship, though bare little aesthetic change from all previous Flagships classes. She is currently acting as the flagship of the Fifth Fleet and is Admiral Hackett's flagship._

 _As the most recent flagship in commission, she incorporated the latest advancement that even her sister ships do not have. Her energy shields are capable of being pushed back closer to the hull, allowing increase in hull integrity at the cost of weaker defenses. Her magnetic guns are those of the Norfolk Battle cruisers, firing smaller but faster one-ton rounds. Her anti-proton thrusters are slightly configured; making the ship actually slower in FTL, but allowing a safer antimatter injection as well as increase warp coil efficiency. She also now uses the Type-25 Anti-tanks storage containers, storing up to five kilograms of anti-deuterium._

 _The ship has yet to gone beyond the Arcturus relays, only having visited Sol or Arcturus. She has been receiving since her launch constant updates with the latest techniques design, weapons, defense, and more to be used in the next illustration. Her constant war games have allowed these to be tested and will be heavily observed to see what works and should be incorporated in the planned Exodus Flagship. There is no plan to build a new Flagship until 2180…_

 _Lasted Edited 4 June 2167 14:00 UTC_

* * *

 _Posted on May 17, 2016 - Beta-read by MoonSword1994_


	7. 6: When Destiny calls, Thunder rings out

**Chapter Six: When Destiny calls, Thunder rings out!**

* * *

 **Part 1:**

 ** _Clark_ 's Senior Officers and Doctor D'gona  
Five Days since Council Contact  
June 5, 2167 16:30:00 UTC**

"We're pinned down," yelled Robertson. He moved from desk to desk, using them for cover as C-Sec rounds bounced off the walls and desk near them.

"Donnelly, give us a kinetic barrier. We need to regroup with the others," shouted Akachi as sand grain bullets flew over him.

Donnelly erected a barrier, using the specially design Terran Kinetic mix martial arts he trained with back in the academy. With energy coursing through his body, amplified by his L3 implants, he deflected the rounds as Akachi and Chikota ran over to Robertson and Akira. They laid down suppressive fire to cover Donnelly as he broke off and ran over.

"Donnelly, can you do a kinetic shove?" asked Robertson as his rifle overheated and attempted to re-cool.

He looked over, "I can try, but I never really tried it before in combat."

"You've never been in combat before," yelled Akira, "Now stop getting us killed and go!"

Donnelly stood and twisted back before throwing a punch at them, projecting a mass effect energy wave. The mass effect generated force traveled quickly through the air and slammed a Turian C-Sec officer, knocking him to the floor. Donnelly quickly ducked back down behind a desk as the others fired at him.

"Holy shit, it worked!" Donnelly staring at his hands, being mesmerizing by his power.

"Hey, they brought an Asari in!" said Chikota.

An Asari officer charged in from the main entrance, flanked by more Turian and Salarian C-Sec officers. She quickly ran up to the front of the Turians and twisted back, energizing up before she turned to unleash a huge biotic wave that easily knocked them and their cover to the wall.

Robertson turned his head to Donnelly as they laid on the ground in pain, "I think she has you bested."

The Turians and Asari advanced towards them, their rifles and pistols raised and aimed at them. Suddenly the fire suppression systems engaged in the lobby, dousing the room and the C-Sec officer with water. As they looked up to see what was happening, their omnitool lit up and they were immediately hit with thousands of volts coursing through them, knocking them out.

"Must I do everything?" said Peter over the intercom before sighing.

"What do you think?" asked Chikota as they got back up.

"I guess that's a yes… Watch out, more coming in through the main entrance."

They quickly regrouped and took cover at the front desk as the front door opened. More officers came in, guns a blazing as they charged up to them. But just as the last one entered the door, a large powerful biotic wave came out of the side hallway to the crew's right, knocking out the officers.

"Well, I can see you humans are clearly tenacious, if unable to follow simple advice. I should remember to note that down," said D'gona as she emerged and walked towards them.

The crew looked to her, surprised by her help. But they raised their guns, not sure why she was helping them.

"Now wait right there, Doctor," said Akachi as he held his hand out for her to stop, "Why are you trying to help us?"

She calmed down and lowered her biotic field. She turned to them, walking slowly up to them, "Do you know Bowman?"

The crew officers looked to each other in confusion. Robertson asked, "Uh, Bowman?"

"Captain Jonathan Bowman of the _Excalibur_. Do you know him?"

"Bowman?" asked Robertson, "Yah, everyone knows him. But he isn't a captain anymore."

For a moment, she was worried, "What? What do you mean?"

Akichi answered, "He's now the President of the Terran Federation... How do you know him?"

She removed the part of her dress covering her neck, revealing a deep scar wound surrounding her neck. "I owe him my life."

"What?"

An explosion rang out from outside. They all ran out from C-Sec headquarters to see the fake sky of the Presidium disappear entirely, showing the Citadel Fleet opening fire upon the Federation Flotilla.

"Come on!" said D'gona, "We have one last thing to handle."

* * *

 **Hackett and Lidanya  
Citadel**

Lidanya rushed back to the CIC, the alarms on her near luxurious ship blaring off for all to hear. As the Asari crew rushed to stations, she took her seat and turned to her commanders.

"Status report!" she yelled out through the deafening alarm.

"We're under attack. Intelligence reports say the attackers are the same faction as those Geth that attack a few days."

"They're not Geth, they're pyjacks! Bring up enemy fleet assessment on screen."

She and the other ten Asari commanders turned to the main view screen. One commander pointed over to the Terran ships on screen.

"About eleven hundred ships. We are counting over a hundred dreadnoughts…"

She slammed her armrest, nearly energizing her biotics, "A hundred! Impossible, rescan now!"

"We have confirmed reports from the Turian ships in combat. Ten are almost the same size as us ma'am."

"Goddess… Casualty report…"

The commanders rushed to several consoles to get the information. One turned back to her, "Reports says they haven't fired upon our ships. Their GARDIAN defense systems are being used to take out the mass accelerated rounds."

"Large ships that can't fight back?" She began to laugh with a smug grin, "They might as well be Geth. They're just like their suit rat creators." She stood up and walked over to the front of the CIC, "Send word to Fedorian and tell him I want my ships back. Move the _Destiny Ascension_ in and open fire."

"Yes ma'am, moving to two thousand kilometers for minimum optimal range."

"Light these pyjacks up!"

* * *

"Admiral Hackett, the Citadel Defense Fleet has move in to engage us. Three thousand ships strong," said Mathew, the head AI on the _Thunder Child_.

Hackett crossed his arms and stroked his brown goatee as he stared out into the battle in the void, "This plan might actually work. Let loose phaser cannons and take out those slugs. All power to shield. Matthew, Ulysses, Swift, begin fleet AI coordination, hack into their system and disable their weapon system."

On the table's speakers, all three AIs respond, "Yes, sir. Establishing network."

The flotilla moved into formation from the closed fold, forming up a 'plane', a three dimensional line like the surface of a sphere. With the _Thunder Child_ at the center, facing the Citadel Tower a thousand clicks away, the fleet bared the brunt of the unified Council Fleet. Behind the plane, the rest of the flotilla, modified for speed, got into formation.

The artificial intelligence began their group networking, linking their computational power together, a process only done in combat since it placed great neural stress on each AI program. Alone, the Terran AI were not fully capable of much. But grouped together, with certain authorization via a special quantum based hash key from command, they could begin to utilize a greater, but still small part of their quantum processors.

They hacked straight into the Council Fleet as the first thousand gathered up to block access to the station. Hundreds at a time immediately stop firing, their guns suddenly overheated as their engines engaged, moving the fleet away and creating an opening. But more still remained, as over a thousand cruisers of the varying races and a few scattered dreadnoughts moved in to bare down their nuclear strength weapons on the Terrans.

From four sides, the rest of the Fifth Fleet came out, rushing from a long angle as they made way to the Citadel. More of the Council Fleet turned about to follow, but were forced to match the Terran's STL warp speed with their mass effect drives, making targeting nearly impossible. But while they gave chase, the remaining Council Fleet moved in to take out the supposedly largest threat, now seemingly lacking their escorts.

As the ship shook about, Anderson began his report of the flotilla's status, "Shields down to 67%. The _Sacramento_ is taking heavy fire, her shield down to 20%."

Hackett took a look at the 3D map of the ships, and the reserves behind the plain, "Retreat the ship and have the _Vancouver_ cover her to recharge her shielding."

"Sir, some of the Council ships are ganging up on the _Santana_. She lost her shield, armor at 80%."

"Move the _Berlin_ and the _Wichita_ to cover her repairs. Move the _Apollo's Wings_ to grid B-7 to take the dreadnoughts' fire off of the reserves. What's the accuracy rate on anti-projectile weaponry systems?"

"34% Admiral."

"I want 50%!"

Matthew reported in, "Admiral, we have received word from the _Clark_ 's AI. They are fighting their way towards the _Clark_ … New report from cyber intelligence! The station Admiral, they're attempting to seal the station."

"Close the station?"

"New updates of the schematics of the station indicates the station can seal its arms together, forming a near impenetrable pod."

"Hack that station open. We need it open to allow them to escape."

"Yes, sir!"

Hackett looked over to his viewport, seeing the other end of the Citadel at the far end. The arms began to slowly retract for a moment, converging around the ring. But it then stopped and began to open back up.

"Station secure. We now have an opening!"

He pointed over, "Helmsman, full speed ahead! Get us to that tower in the middle.

"Aye, sir! Full ahead!"

More rounds flew across the void, hitting the flotilla. The _Thunder Child_ moved into the front, charging into the Citadel Fleet formation as the AIs forced them away to clear a path to the Citadel Tower. The rest of the fleet held their position near the relay as a few escorts begin to tail her.

"Sir, our sensors are indicating that more Council 'dreadnoughts' are now coming within visual range…"

"On screen."

As he watched on the holo screen displayed over the viewport, he saw the _Destiny Ascension_ , the famed Asari ship, slightly larger in length but far larger is general size than the Federation flagship, come out from the outskirts of the nebula. On her side, several Turian dreadnoughts and a squadron of Salarian cruisers flanked her. They moved in between the back of the _Thunder Child_ and rest of the Council Fleet, before they opened fire on Hackett's ship. The _Ascension_ positioned and aimed herself at the _Thunder Child,_ with her advance mass effect guns firing forty kilogram slugs at 4% of light, bombarding the _Child_ 's shields with a far greater rate of fire than any Terran ship and their magnetic guns could do. Every time it fired, it nearly instantaneously hit the _Child_.

"So that must be their flagship. Impressive."

* * *

"Why hasn't the Citadel been sealed?" yelled Lidanya as she rushed from console to console.

A commander rushed to her, "We lost contact with the Citadel. From what we can tell, they're being hacked and lost control of the Citadel's primary computers."

An officer at her console turned back to Lidanya, "Matriarch Lidanya, the lead ship, it's making a course for the Citadel…"

"They're going for the Council! Take the _Ascension_ in and take that ship out!"

Another commander ran over to her, "W-wait, what? We can't fight at that range…"

"Do it, send the _Ascension_ and her escorts into the Citadel. Do not let that pyjack ship get to the Tower!"

"Uh, Yes ma'am!"

* * *

The ship rocked about as several console panels in the trench in front of Hackett below flashed red, before they started to explode from the electric feedback. An ensign over there turned to Hackett, "Admiral Hackett, rear shields are down, polarizing the hull to maximum."

Another round from the Turians hit the ship.

"Sir, hull integrity is down to 79%, rear phase cannons are overheated. Casualties begin reported across all decks," said Anderson, "Sir, they cut off our escorts. We're on our own!"

As the ship continued to be bombarded as it charged to the other side of the Citadel, Hackett walked back around up to the helmsman's station, up behind the command table, "Helmsman, give us a three second burst to rear port thrusters! Turn us about and face them. Give us a few kilometers berth to the Tower."

"Aye, sir!"

The ship engaged her thrusters, the force and momentum of the burst turning the ship around to stare down the _Ascension_ and the dreadnoughts as she continued to move closer to the Tower. She then engaged her thrusters and stopped, her rear only four kilometers away from the Citadel Tower, in full view of the Council. Standing firm between them and the Council Fleet, there laid _Thunder Child_.

"Sir, we're trapped in the Citadel's arms."

"Hold position and divert power to the forward shielding."

The _Child_ held its position, with the dreadnoughts unloading their rounds on her as the rest of the fleet stood strong near the location of the fold, taking fire from the rest of the Council Fleet. The _Thunder Child_ let out her phaser cannons, rounds of plasma vaporizing the Council's rounds. But more made their mark, penetrating overloaded sections of the shield matrix and slammed against the magnetically sealed hull and chipping away plate after plate of titanium-steel.

Anderson opened up the screen to cyber warfare suits. "Disable those dreadnoughts! The polarization is giving way!"

The officers and cyber warfare AIs responded. The support dreadnoughts from the Turian contingency fell silent and their forward thrusters pushed them away and back out into the nebula, leaving the _Ascension_ alone. But she pressed on her attack, her slugs slowed down by the _Child's_ shield before it bounced off, at first, as the hull weakened.

"That large flagship! Why isn't it gone?"

"Quantum based encryption systems, we'll need the rest of the flotilla's AI to do some real hacking. Too far now to sync," replied Matt.

"Do we have the _Clark's_ location?" asked Hackett.

Matt responded, "Admiral, I have found them. The senior officers are currently fighting their way to the ship."

"They'll need help…" Hackett walked over and turned to Anderson, "Commander, you're up! Gather you squad, get in and escort them to the ship."

Anderson responded while nearly being knocked down to the floor. He saw out the main viewport as a round of the _Ascension_ made its way through the energy shields and skidded on the hull.

"We can't launch shuttles or drop pods; the surround area is too hot."

"I see... Anderson, get your squad ready… And report to Cargo Bay 1."

* * *

"Where are we going?" Asked Akira, watching the fleets above pass the now disabled sky of the Presidium.

"We're going to pick up a present for Bowman," responded D'gona.

"You guys have space beagles? He loves those dogs. Gave one to my great grandfather as centurial birthday gift," said Donnelly, while Robertson face palmed.

"Oh, we're getting him a dog, that's for sure," she said, checking the rifle she picked up back in C-Sec HQ.

They ran down the Presidium, watching as people fled to safety as the battle went on above. They finally reached a long tower, extending pass the Presidium and into space.

"Get in the elevator, we're going up to the top of the Tower."

"Uh… Ok. Just gonna ignore that fact that there's rail gun rounds flying pass that tower above," said Chikota as she looked at the battle above, "Is… is that the _Thunder Child_?"

Robertson looked up as well, laughing out in joy, "I thought I heard her calling."

* * *

 **Part 2:**

 **The Council and the Terrans - Citadel Chamber  
June 5, 2167 17:30:00 UTC**

"Damn it, why have we not been evacuated yet? We should be on the _Ascension_ , not listening to this idiot!" said the Turian councilor Sparatus, wanting to leave as he looked back through the large viewport and saw the battle between the Council Fleet and the Federation. On the risen balcony at the end of the chambers was him, Asari Councilor Tevos, and Salarian Councilor Nerval, with Spectre guards flanking them.

"Sorry Councilor, but the _Destiny Ascension_ is already in combat," said a Spectre guard near them.

"Stop panicking, these ships haven't even fired back," said Nerval, as he looked at footage from his holo console, surprisingly calm for a Salarian.

Sparatus looked at him in bewilderment, "Look at their ship! A hundred of them, each larger than my race's dreadnoughts. Just sitting there and taking hits like we're not even there. And why hasn't the Citadel been closed?"

"Computer error, we can't send the command in," said the Spectre.

"If they're some kind of AI, they might have just hacked our systems and stopped us. A good portion of our fleet is disabled," said Nerval.

"That large one just parked itself right next to us. If any of our ships miss their target, we could get hit! And, and… is that the _Ascension_ right next to it?! Spirits damn that stupid Asari!"

"Maybe if we had more dreadnoughts, and better commanders, this wouldn't be a problem," remarked Nerval as he continued causally looking at the video footage, before he brought up the Council Fleet roster to examine the battle.

"Always the damn treaty with you, isn't it?"

"Gentleman! Since we are here, we might as well hear out the Batarian Ambassador as we planned before the attack," said Asari Councilor Tevos.

"He's not even their ambassador!" said Sparatus.

"That's because the people you're fighting right now killed him and the colony he was on by nuking it!" said Balak, angry that the Council barely wanted to listen to him.

Nerval responded, "We still don't know who these people are. At least we know they're not Geth, but yet..."

"They're worse than the Geth! They actually attack us! They already launched over ten thousand ships into our territory, stealing our… labor, and nuking our colonies. They'll be on my home world in a few days!"

Sparatus laughed, "Ten thousand ships? No one could yield that many ships and divert them all to one location. The Hierarchy has the largest military fleet in the galaxy at over thirty thousand ships. There's no way some unknown race in the Traverse has that number, or are attacking you with that kind of strength."

Nerval turned to him with interest inhis words. "What about the Quarian Fleet? Vali's fifty thousand ships destroyed one of your colonies with ease."

"They don't count! If I knew where they were, I would ask Primarch Cassiud to take them out."

Balak yelled out in rage at the councilors, "Damn it, pay attention! They do have that number. And it's not a whole bunch of small ships either. They have dreadnoughts that make the _Ascension_ look like a frigate. You can see for yourself with the one right next to us!"

"It's not that big… though Balak has a point, they have over ten of those ships out there and based on our scans, they have a nearly a hundred additional ships that alone would be classified as dreadnoughts," said Nerval as he examined the report.

Balak yelled at him, "How are you so calm, Salarian? By that logic, they make the Turians seem weak. They have forty dreadnoughts! Whoever they are, they have over a hundred!"

"These ships are mostly likely empty shells," said Sparatus has he waved his hand to brush him off, "A Quarian live ship is larger than that, and it would take but a throw of a rock to destroy it."

Tevos intervene, tired, "Balak, why are you here exactly?"

"This race, they are killing my people. I demand the ones you've captured are turned over to me."

"We still have no idea who they are. The crew refused to talk to us and the officers only offered some general history to an interviewer this morning. We haven't even read through her report."

"You can read it later when we're done!" yelled a voice from afar.

"Dr. D'gona, why are you here?" asked Tevos, before realizing she is being followed by a group of unfamiliar people. "And who are these…"

"That's them. The humans! They're escaping and using the Asari as a hostage!" said Balak as he turned around and he pulled out a pistol.

"They're escaping alright, and I'm with them!" She unleashed a biotic slam, knocking out Balak. "We'll take him now if you don't mind."

Akira added on, "Send a bill to congress; they'll cut you a check in a decade."

"What are you doing?" said Sparatus as he backed away from the podium in fright, "Spectres, stop them, now!"

Quickly, a firefight ensured as several Spectres rushed from the side room. From a nearby military server, Peter hacked into their omnitools, disabling their shielding, but they pressed on regardless as more made their way to the tower. The Terrans ducked behind the garden walls in the chamber as they advanced towards Balak as D'gona and Donnelly gave cover with a barrier. They laid down fire, met quickly in turn from up the staircase. In the confusion, one moved from cover, where Robertson managed to get a clean body shot on a Turian Spectre. As he fell down the staircase leading to the council, Akira leveled a stolen sniper rifle and managed to pull a headshot off a Salarian Spectre.

"I can't believe you managed to kill two Spectres!" yelled D'gona, her voice drowned out by gunfire.

"What's a Spectre?" asked Chikota.

She ducked and slid to cover with her, "They're the best agents the Council has in its arsenal. If they need something done, no matter the cost, they can do it. They are chosen from the best soldiers from each Council race. They only answer to the Council directly."

Akachi grabbed the sniper rifle from Balak's back and took aim, shooting an Asari Spectre before she could launch some biotic attack at them.

"Really", asked Akachi, "We sure as hell aren't the best the Federation has to offer, but that wasn't very hard."

"Oh good, the aliens can't fight back. The Marine's job just got a lot easier!" said Donnelly.

Akachi raised the rifle and took aim, steadying his barrel. Another Turian Spectre took aim and fired at him. He ducked as part of the wall he hid behind was broken up. But he re-aimed, before he fired again. The Spectre moved away as he fired. Akachi missed his head and wounding the Spectre instead, severing his left arm as he fell to the ground cold as blue blood spill from him.

"That's all of them," said Robertson. "And we didn't even need the N7s!"

Over their comms, Peter spoke out, "Hey, you could also credit the AI that disabled their shields and messed with their aiming systems."

Donnelly snickered, "Finally useful for something."

"I'm surprise you're not dead."

They walked up closer to Balak and Councilors, hiding behind their podium.

"I think we scared them shitless," said Donnelly as he looked around the chamber, observing the aesthetics.

"Teaches them to open fire without making proper contact, dumbasses," said Akira, purposely saying it loud enough for the Council to hear.

"So do we take the Councilors with us or what?"

"Leave them here," said D'gona as she grabbed Balak, "No need to make things worse by kidnapping the three most powerful leaders in the galaxy."

Donnelly shrugged, "We'll be back anyway for them."

Akachi walked over, "Come on. We need to get to the ship. Peter, make a way for us to get to the Wards from here. Robertson, help D'gona carry the four eye guy she knocked out." They got Balak and retreated back to the elevator, now directly on route to the Ward where the ship was.

The Council stood up from where they hid. The bodies of their guard laid on the floor, a combination of blue, purple, and green blood pooling across the chamber.

"Spirits, D'gona helped them escape," said Sparatus.

"Goddess, they killed five Spectres, and acted as if it was easy for them," said Tevos.

"These humans…or Terrans? Most interesting. We have to get more info on them," remarked Nerval.

From a side door came several Spectre agents and C-Sec officers, stopped only momentarily by the dead bodies of several of their own on the ground.

Sparatus turned to them, "Damn it, where were you? Dr. D'gona is helping them escape. Go after her!"

"Yes Councilor!"

They ran to the returned elevator and began to make their way down, one stayed behind to help the wounded Turian Spectre.

* * *

 **Part 3:**

 **Commander David Anderson and Delta Squad  
Citadel  
** **June 5, 2167 17:50:00 UTC**

"Shield holding at 20%!" said the officer through his earpiece.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," He brought up his watch, "Anderson, are the N7 Marines in position?" asked Hackett.

"Yes sir, we're waiting in cargo bay 1."

"Good."

His elevator arrived on deck 12, where he quickly walked to the bay as crewmembers rushed from one station to another. The ship kept rocking as more rounds hit the ship, occasionally knocking him to the wall has he continued on, others in the hallway falling. He entered the bay and the hatch quickly closed behind him. There, Anderson's Delta squad waited, all fully cladded in their armor, their weapons holstered as they saluted him while holding their helmets.

"Marines, I'll keep it simple, for your mission is simple. Escort the senior officers of the _Clark_ to their ship."

Anderson walked over to him, "Excuse me Admiral, but how are we supposed to get on the station?"

"With this…"

Hackett walked to a panel and began typing an authorization code. A crane began to lift the cover of a container, revealing a large pad, similar to an industry sized atom forger.

"Today will be the first tactical use of our newest machine, the Matter-Energy Transporter." The marines looked at one another and at the machine, surprised that it was actually real. Hackett nodded to them, confirming their surprise. He himself was shocked when he was given the option of bringing along the prototype machine. "This machine is completely classified. You are not to talk or mention the use or existence of this machine. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!" said Anderson and his squad in unison.

Hackett powered up the machine before he accessed the AI memory banks, creating a deletion sequence to prevent Matthew and Peter from remembering his next order and the transporter. "Matthew, find the officers and let them know reinforcements are en route."

"Yes sir, I'm transmitting spatial coordinates to the transporter."

He directed them onto the pad, spaced out two feet from one another. They placed their helmets on and finished suiting up, before they readied their rifles. Hackett turned to the console. He gave a quick glare, finding it weird the console was not of standard Terran GUI interface. He then remembered where he actually saw the machine before, and turned to slide the analog power lever up. An energy ribbon began to encircle them.

"Good luck, Delta team."

An energy ribbon, a small ball of bright energy followed by a tail of light appeared, revolving around each of them. In a second, thousands of them appeared, forming a cylinder wall of energy around each marine. Their shades casted a darkened image of the wall of energy. The image began to fade away as the individual ribbons began to appear from the wall. They slowly disappeared and revealed that the Marines were gone, as the last few revolving energy ribbons disappeared altogether.

* * *

They rematerialized in a corner alley in the lower docks. There were five of them, equipped in the latest Hahne-Kedar power armor and Lancer rifles.

Anderson turned to his team, "Ok, the officers are making their way to the ship. We need to make our way to them and get them to the ship. Let move out."

They started running to the nearest ladder, trying to make their way up. Above, the officers' elevator reached the upper Wards, containing the docking ports. They ran over to cover behind several rows of waiting chairs, watching out for more enemy officers as they came down from a second elevator.

"Captain, the Council has sent more Spectres and officers to your position, from the elevator you came in," said Peter.

They aimed their rifles at the entrance, waiting for it to arrive.

"Captain, naval Marines have boarded the station, en route to your position."

Akichi turned to his watch, gripping the sniper rifle as he leveled it on a seat back cushion, "Marines? How did they get on board?"

Peter remained silent for a moment, "Uh… Well… My memory files of initial detection appear to have been deleted. My guess is that how they got here is classified."

"Doesn't matter, direct them here. We won't get lucky a second time."

The elevator arrived at the wards, with the council agents running towards them, guns ready.

They engaged the Spectres, keeping them near the elevator. Two of them rose a biotic barrier, covering them as they advance. Donnelly and D'gona did the same, raising a barrier for them, gunfire bouncing off of each barrier as the Spectres and officers advanced closer to them. From a corner, the N7 Marines ran out towards them. They quickly jumped to nearby cover and opened fire, their rifle rounds bashing through the biotic barrier and their personal kinetic barriers, shredding them apart.

"Enemy down!"

Anderson walked up to the captain. "Captain, Lieutenant Commander Anderson and N7 Delta Squad reporting. We're here to escort you to your ship."

"Oh good," said Robertson, dropping a slowly awakening Balak on the ground, knocking him out again. "You guys can carry him."

"Yes sir," responded one of the marine. Anderson notice D'gona, "Captain, what about the Asari?"

Akachi responded, "She's with us. Now let's go, we need to free the crew."

They left, running to a second elevator that took them to Dock E-30, where the crew was being held in temporary containment. They quickly overwhelm the few C-Sec officers and freed the crew. Afterwards, they opened the hatch, and began to board the ship.

"Captain, message from Admiral Hackett," said Peter, his holo being projected from an Avina holo terminal.

"Put him through here," said Akachi as he monitored the console at the airlock.

His avatar appeared on the terminal alongside Peter, "This is Admiral Hackett."

"Sir."

"Is the ship ready to depart?"

"Yes sir, we're completing boarding and getting the remaining systems online."

"Good. Captain, I want you to leave your ship's AI Peter in the Citadel's systems. Our Matthew will accompany him. We need them to monitor the Council."

"You heard him, Peter," said the Captain.

He sighed, "I'll stay back with Matthew, sir."

"What? You don't want to hang out with me?" asked Matthew; his holo appeared next to Peter

"I still remember the New Year's Eve party. Always a harassment case with you fourthies."

"She was coming on to me! I should have been the one to file that report."

The rest of the crew boarded, rushing to the ship as they saw the battle above. Before Akachi boarded, Donnelly ran back out, grabbing a Keeper who was welding a nearby power junction.

"I'm taking the giant green spider with us. Better something than nothing."

He turned back to the console, "Admiral, we're good to go."

"Roger Captain, we're recycling our shields to give you cover. Hackett out." Akachi ran into the ship, its hatch closing as the ship pulled out passed the barrier holding the atmosphere in and into the void.

Peter and Matthew looked on as the ship left. He then looked to him. "Well, since we're here, I'll show you around." They then both disappeared into the Citadel's computers.

The ship pulled from dock and left as it turned upward, heading straight to the _Thunder Child_. The _Clark_ made its way to dock at a port facing away from the Citadel Fleet, hundreds of slugs passing through the void. Finally, the ship entered a corvette docking port, securing her to the Flagship.

* * *

 **Part 4:**

 **Admiral Hackett - FSS _Thunder Child_  
June 5, 2167 18:15:00 UTC**

Anderson return to the Bridge, still in his combat wear as he removed his helmet. As he entered and walked to the command table, more warnings came about as the bridge staff report in from the row of consoles in the trench below.

"Admiral, shields are recharged and are at 10%, hull structure at 62%. The flotilla is reporting heavy damage to all ships," said Anderson as new data appeared on the holo screen. "But they all made it back to the rendezvous point."

"Admiral!" reported the comms officer, "Word from the flotilla, ten thousand more Council ships have arrived from the relays. ETA five minutes."

He turned back to the helmsman, "We're done here. Message the Arcturus starbases and alert them to open the Transwarp Fold. Order an immediately retreat."

"Sir, the flotilla is able to retreat, but the _Ascension_ is blocking the way for us to leave the Citadel," said the helmsman.

"Alternative courses, Lieutenant?"

"Sorry sir, but our maneuvering thrusters are shot dead. The fold has been opened directly straight of us, but the enemy ship is blocking, we can't steer around. Incoming fire is making it impossible to open a Hyperdrive wormhole."

"The synthas, can they hack the thing out of the way?"

Anderson turned to him, "The fleets are still tied down and _Ascension_ 's computers are quantum encrypted; it'll take too long to hack through with just the AIs onboard." A volley of rounds hit the ship, consoles and wall screens across the bridge exploding, knocking several people to the ground as Hackett held onto the table. Anderson quickly got back up as sections of the hull plating forward of the bridge drifted by, a few hitting the bridge's viewport, "Admiral, can we fire our weapons at them? We still have forward torpedo launchers."

"Orders are clear; we do not open fire. Not that it matters. It'll take several volleys to destroy that thing. They're close to doing the same to us."

Another alert from the bridge crew, "Sir, shields are gone, our hulls down to 40% integrity. Deck 14 through 51 are venting atmosphere. Half our systems are on auxiliary power."

Hackett thought to himself, staring out into the void. As the ship rocked about with more slugs fired head straight for them, he figured out his escape plan. He had no guns, taking heavy damage, and no real options. More scattered hull plating tapped against the transparent aluminum viewport, creating a glare from the nebula beyond. He turned away and looked to the back wall underneath the helms station. There laid the ceremony plaque on the wall, gleaming from the light ahead.

 _FSS Thunder Child_

 _FGCC-1898_

 _Commissioned: September 21, 2165  
Martian Utopia Fleetyard_

 _For whatever threat shall fall onto man  
Drive the people off their native shore_

 _Let one ship be in sight  
To give hope and cheer against our fall  
Shall she be steaming headlong and stand in their way_

 _Full speed ahead, coming to the rescue  
Low in the water, there laid Thunder Child_

With that, he realized what to do. With a smile on his face, he ran to the back of the bridge, ascending up onto the raised platform where the helms station was.

"Anderson… I can presume you're aware of the namesake of this ship?" he said as he held onto the railing.

He turned back, confused, "Of course I am. I'm from London after all."

He shook his head and chuckled, "And like Roland, you speak with an American accent..." Hackett walked to the helmsman. "Helmsman, full power to remaining engines. Take us straight towards the fold."

The helmsman turned to him, "Sir, the enemy ship is directly ahead of us, blocking our path."

"Exactly!" He looked down to the console and activated comms, opening a ship wide announcement.

"This is Admiral Hackett. Begin full evacuation of the twenty forward bulkheads to the rear. Prepare for impact." He then switched it to Main Engineering. "Chief, I need full power to forward shielding and structure integrity."

"Our fusion reactors are already maxed out recharging the shields. Energy cycling is down 70% in efficiency."

"Start the antimatter reactors and divert the energy from the Hyperdrive to the shields and thruster engines."

"That'll fry the entire power grid!"

"Do it, Chief!"

"Yes sir, beginning antimatter flow and power reroute. We'll give you all she's got."

Hackett walked back to the table and toward the front of bridge, keeping his footing as the ship slowly crumbled away from the might of the Council flagship. The lighting on the ship lit up slightly brighter than normal for a moment as extra energy was added onto the ship's grid, some lighting and consoles exploding before the safety regulators kicked in. He reached the viewport and started out to the _Destiny Ascension_. He then signaled to the helmsman, pointing his arm forward.

"Ahead, ramming speed!"

"Yes sir, calculating optimal ramming speed. Moving ahead, quarter impulse."

The _Thunder Child_ began to move, gathering speed from what remaining engines she had still working, with the raw power from the antimatter reactors being channeled into them. Only ten kilometers in front of her was the Asari dreadnought and her few remaining escorts, bearing down on the Federation ship with every slug they had.

* * *

Matriarch Lidanya rushed around the _Ascension's_ CIC after being alerted to what the _Thunder Child_ was doing. She ran over to a navigator, who was monitoring the course of the Federation ship.

"What is the enemy vessel doing?"

"They restarted her engines and are moving towards the fold at the outskirts of the Citadel. Ma'am, they're on a direct collision with us!"

"Keep firing and stop them before collision. Activate forward thrusters, can we maneuver out of here?"

"In spite of all the damage we inflicted, the ship is moving faster than our maneuvering engines can get us out, we can't dodge them."

"Goddess damn these pyjacks! Evacuate the ship; send word to evaluate the area of the Wards surrounding us. Move the ship anyway, give them less of a target."

* * *

The _Thunder Child_ rushed toward the _Destiny Ascension_ , her remaining engines getting the ship to as fast a ramming speed as possible.

"Forward bulkheads have been evacuated sir."

"Divert life support from those areas to forward structure integrity."

Anderson yelled out to him, "We have shields!"

"Then forward onwards!"

"Impact five seconds!"

He nodded and yelled out, still staring at the _Ascension_ , "Brace for impact!"

The _Child's_ recharged shields were the first to hit the _Ascension_ , the collision overloading her forward emitters as it bashed right through the Asari's kinetic barriers. From afar, whether it be on the Federation ships watching the unbelievable event, or on the Citadel itself, with people watching from nearly every angle of the impact from the five wards, the collision between energy and mass effect shielding created a bright explosion, as the impact caused massive discharges on both ships, lightning filling up the skyline with raw energy.

Immediately afterwards, the _Thunder Child_ 's reinforced spear tip shaped bow made impact on the upper section of the _Ascension_ , the bow scrapping across the smooth hull of the Asari's until it fully penetrated into the ship itself, slowly cutting the ship and splitting it apart.

"Admiral, the first bulkhead just collapsed onto the second," said the helmsman. The ship rattled as it cut through the _Ascension_. A loud erring sound quickly resonated from the walls in the ship. "The second bulkhead just collapsed!"

"Divert power from the reactors to the third and fourth bulkhead structure."

The _Thunder Child_ continued to move right through the _Ascension_ , cutting the ship's port side from the rest of the ship. All over the hull of the _Destiny Ascension_ , life pods began to eject, with as many of the ship's ten thousand crew as possible. Across the forward hull of the _Child_ , sections of the ships were crushed and compacted onto the next, collapsing the ship.

Across the _Child_ , energy feedbacks occurred all over the ship. Lighting was the first to go as the LEDs hit with the first feedback exploded as the rest on the circuit were badly burnt out. Along the walls of the corridors, from private quarters to the bridge, command consoles exploded, injuring crew and burning the surrounding walls. As the _Child_ bore through, each forward compartment collapsed into the next. The vibration from the collapsing metal letting out a loud eerie sound through the rest of the ship that still had life support.

But after thirty seconds, the bow of the _Thunder Child_ finally emerged through the rear of the _Ascension_ , her hull badly damage as the forward half of the ship was compacted onto the rear haft, one section of the ship into the other. The ship continued on, the Asari ship almost split fully into two, the rest splitting away.

"Sir, we cleared the ship. Damage across all decks, the first eleven bulk heads are completely destroyed," reported the helmsman.

"It appears we have shrunk the ship's length by an entire kilometer," said Anderson as he continued analyzing data on the table, breathing out a sigh of relief.

Hackett chuckled a bit as he removed his hat and scratched his head, "She can be repaired. All remaining power to the engines, get us to that fold."

He looked back, now noticing the plaque laying on the ground, covering with burnt electronics and fallen wall plates that popped out of their rivets. He walked over to pick it up and placed it on the table as his officers turned to look at it.

"Well, I believe we made a better impression this time around."

The bridge crew cheered on as the _Thunder_ _Child_ skidded away towards the fold, as the remaining Federation ships on that side of the fold moved in to cover the flagship's retreat. Only a minute later did the ship disappear into the fold, with her escort quick behind. The fold closed afterwards, slowly disappearing as her thrusters gave a bright blue glow of her final farewell.

In the middle of the Citadel, in the open void between the five Wards and the Tower was the wreck of the _Ascension_ , split in half by an alien ship they still had no idea who they were. The wreck floated there, until her eezo core finally gave out and the main section of the ship exploded, letting out a massive discharge of static electricity. Not dangerous to anyone on the Citadel, but clear to anyone watching of what had just happen in the past two hours.

* * *

 **Part 5:**

 **The Council and Team Shodan - Citadel Chamber  
June 5, 2167 20:00:00 UTC**

The Council stood there, their window view aimed directly at the wreck of the flagship of the Council Fleet, a ship that alone was as strong of the rest of the Asari Dreadnought Fleet combined. Tevos remained speechless as she saw the remains of the _Ascension_ float away, small explosions getting rid of what remained.

"T-T… They destroyed the _Destiny Ascension_!" Sparatus turned to face his fellow Councilors, "Spirits, that monstrous ship they had just rammed right through the _Destiny Ascension_ and left as if it wasn't even there."

Nerval added, "They didn't even fire upon us. The entire battle, they had over a hundred dreadnoughts and they didn't fire a single shot. We fired everything we had, and we couldn't even destroy a single one of their ships."

"Who are these people? They lose a single ship, most likely the smallest in their fleet, and they sent a fleet of dreadnoughts to rescue it, each ship nearly all indestructible." Tevos looked through the initial report she got from D'gona. "And why was D'gona helping them escape, she just met them."

Sparatus commented, "Maybe that stupid Batarian was right. We saw the power of their smallest ship first hand. The large ones they sent must be thousands of times more powerful. If they had the number he suggested, the Hegemony is as good as gone."

"We need more information on this people. What did that message they sent say again? They were the… the…"

"Federation. The United Terran Federation actually."

The Councilors looked behind them where the voice was coming from. From the three podiums that recorded their holo image was the holos of two people. One was a Caucasian man, young with slightly blonde hair against mostly brown, dressed in a shirt and cotton jacket and blue jeans and sneakers. The second was a young Persian man, his hair clean cut with a short but visible beard on his face. He was dressed similar to the first, wearing a leather jacket instead and a tan khaki pants.

"Who are you," demanded Trevos.

"Who do you think we are?" asked the first holo to the left of them.

Nerval intervene, "You two look like the people who attacked us here earlier. You're the… humans, that's it."

Sparatus rose his omnitool, "If they are projecting to us, they must have some agents still on the Citadel." He tried to pull a trace on the signal, but came up with nothing.

"There are no humans on this station. Physically anyway," remarked Matthew to the right.

"Wait you don't mean… you're some recorded program? A Virtual Intelligence?" asked Nerval.

"Better," said Peter, laughing before he answered, "We're fully sentient Artificial Intelligence, here on behalf of the United Terran Federation!"

Matt added on, "Oh and, uh, we come in peace… for what it's worth."

Tevos looked at them in shock, "Artificial intelligence! Goddess…"

"They are worse than the Geth!"

"Hmm, fascinating…"

* * *

 **Part 6:**

 **Bowman and Williams  
Before Hackett's Raid  
June 5, 2167 15:30:00 UTC**

Bowman walked back to his desk after his contact with the admirals. Half on him meant what he said. He wanted to showcase the Terran's 'superiority' over the council. But another half was yelling inside him as crazed the plan was. He might have just sent some eager admiral to his death. He saw too many battles, wars, and deaths. Bowman didn't like having to do keep doing so.

He sat down on his desk over Earth in man's first major starbase. As he waited for results, a new hologram appeared in Bowman's office.

"President Bowman. I presume the debriefing went well."

"They think I'm insane. That I'm sending Hackett to his death, for Terran hubris."

Williams shrugged his shoulders as he walked up to his desk, "Pride, what useless crap. If I learned something from all these years, it's that getting results, making things work for you is the most important thing. Hit high, hit low, but hit!"

"Always something from Section 14."

"But don't worry. This plan will work. Hackett is very capable. I feel as though we shall come on rely on him in the future. We just haven't seen it yet. He will make it back. Just as planned…"

"As planned?" Bowman turned his seat around to him and yelled out, "Like how everything before was 'planned'? Like what happened in the Great Traverse. Like what happen on Aratoht? Or the Great Revival!"

"Well, I'm a big enough man to admit, there were mistakes along the way. We are just men, no? Anderson, then Bletchley, then me. But as they say, plans are useless but planning is indispensable. Right now, we are stronger than ever before."

Bowman stood up and quickly ran around his desk, disengaging the hologram safety protocol. As Williams looked on, Bowman swung, landing a solid punch across the hologram's face. For Williams' point of view, on board a carrier ship ready to descend on Camala, the hologram of Bowman landed a punch straight on him, pushing him back as Williams quickly clenched his face.

Williams stumbled forward a bit and looked at Bowman. He checked his jaw for a moment, then smiled.

"That's a good punch, Mr. President! Good to know you're still a fighter."

Bowman stared at him for a moment, before breaking off as he shook his hand for the punch, "I wish I could think, this was all part of some lie, some paranoid conspiracy…"

Williams repositioned his jaw and stretched his face, "Truth is stranger than fiction."

"So…" Bowman calmed himself a bit.

Williams, still in his calm demeanor, as he continued, "If Hackett wins, the Council becomes easier to… handle."

"Really?"

"As of now, they're a disappointment. Not strong enough to help us fight. But strong enough to fight us," said Williams as he grunted a bit and sat down, now trying to hide the pain on his face, "But if we are to have a problem, we might as well make them a solution."

"I don't follow."

"You will soon enough," said Williams, "But for now, look forward to Hackett's return. You may be more surprised than you would think."

"Really?" Asked Bowman as he leaned forward.

"Honestly, I'm guessing. But that's the nice thing about the job. The unexpected is just part of the plan. You must be bold; you must dare to embrace it. As Bletchley told me once, 'Who dares, Wins'!"

* * *

 _Terran Wikipedia_

 _ **N7 Special Forces (United Terran Marine Corp)**_

 _ **Active:**_ _February 24, 2152 – Present_

 _ **Country:**_ _United Terran Federation_

 _ **Branch:**_ _United Terran Marine_

 _ **Type:**_ _Special Operations Forces_

 _ **Role:**_

 _Unconventional warfare_

 _Special reconnaissance_

 _Direct action_

 _Counter-terrorism_

 _Counter-insurgency_

 _Hostage rescue_

 _Humanitarian missions_

 _ **Size:**_ _~250,000 Active Duty/National Guard_

 _ **Part of:**_ _United Terran Special Operations Command; UTF Navy Special Operations Command_

 _ **Garrison/HQ:**_ _Fort Anderson, Eden Prime, Exodus_

 _ **Nickname(s):**_ _N7s, True Space Marines, Hell-Divers, Spacers, Uncle Terry's Misguided Teens_

 _ **Motto:**_ _Forward, Faithfully, into the Unknown._

 _The Terran Marine N7 are the special forces for the Terran Navy Marines. Conceived in the early fifties to give the Navy a special force division directly under its chain of command. The first N7 Marines were volunteer Army B7, The Blue Berets. After 2155, the Marines have since been training their own special forces, tasked with supporting specialization of naval and planetary invasion covert op missions that can't be done by high profile Marines, or non-specialized Berets. They are stationed at Fort Anderson on Eden Prime along with the B7s, named after the first UTF president, Thomas Anderson._

' _N' is the given destination for Naval classification, since 'M' is generic for military and the Navy brass wanted to assert its full control of the Marine program. '7' is the destination in the Terran military for elite soldiers, '1' is recruit, '3' is trained, '5' is veteran. N7s are trained on landing and carrying out missions in hostile worlds or ships where regular forces have yet to establish an area of control. Unlike the B7s, who are known by their famed hat attire, the N7s are commonly referred to by their categorization._

 _During the short Skyllian Blitz, they were reported to be used as either scouts to open the way for main Marine landing on hostile Batarian worlds, or in covert missions in preventing Hegemony forces from organizing defenses. President Bowman credits them for successfully capturing an entire Batarian fleet over the world of Rigeno. Their recorded tactic of insertions, through orbital drop pod deployment, marked the first time since the Great Revival that troops were inserted in such a manner. Those ships have since been organized as the Confederation Liberation Fleet for the Terran controlled Batarian Confederation._

 _Confusion exist as to what branch the N7s are actually under. The N7 are the special forces for the Terran Marines. The Marines as a whole are under full control of the Navy. The Army agreed to the formation to prevent the Navy from executing its authority of requisitioning their special forces for the Navy's own missions. On paper, the Navy has no dedicated special forces under its branch, it can 'borrow' the Marine's N7 whenever, and must get approval to use the Army B7. In practice, the Navy extensively uses the N7 and Blue Berets without much in the way of even asking, much to the annoyance of both the General staff of the Army and the Marine Admirals of the Marine forces. The Navy's current focus on ship construction has made support for a dedicated Navy Special Forces low in all branches of the military._

 _Last Edited 30 June 2167 18:00 UTC_

* * *

 _Galactic Codex: Citadel Edition, Galactic Standard Year 2907._

 _ **The Councilors of the Citadel Council:**_

 _ **Turian Councilor Sparatus:**_

 _Appointed by Primarch Cassiud after the passing of Councilor Fedorian, he was cited for the job for being skilled in the political arena. His appointment has been not without controversy. His political skills leave a desire for proper diplomatic skills, being at odds with both his fellow councilors and the associated races. The military also doesn't like him. While the last councilor was a retired Marine, he served as a desk officer since conscription and has no real combat experience. As commented by Cassiud, 'He is loyal and willing to do what the Hierarchy demands. That's good enough for me.'_

 _ **Asari Councilor Tevos:**_

 _A born diplomat, she has been the leading force since being appointed Councilor at the surprisingly young age of 300, the youngest Asari to have been appointed. There is debate as to the secret of who her father is, but her mother was a veteran of the Krogan Rebellion and she cites it as the reason to pursuing the diplomatic core as a young child. Now in her 700s, the matriarch has been seen as the backbone of the modern Citadel Council._

 _ **Salarian Councilor Nerval:**_

 _A former STG agent, Nerval was instated during the short time his family held the highest positions in the Salarian Union, his sister the head Dalatrass for a time. Though power has shifted quickly, (natural for the Union), he has kept his clout to stay in his position and hold strong sway with the STG and Salarian military. He believes in the philosophy of wanting peace by being ready for war and is vocal of the stagnate growth of Council races' militaries. He has been losing popularity for it at home, but the powers that be have seen fit to wait him out. At the age of 39 years old, many political analyzers agree that he is being simply waited out._

* * *

 _Terran Wikipedia_

 _ **High Density Atom Molecular Forger and Sequencer:**_

 _The High Density Atom Molecular Forger and Sequencer or commonly known as a Replicator, is a high-energy machine used to create new matter from input matter. Created by Second Generation Synthetic-Human George 'Chappie' Welsh as a taught experiment in the early 2130s, it is one of the most advanced machines in the Federation, besides the Hyperdrive, the Transwarp Conduit, and Artificial Intelligence._

 _Theorized from the idea of such machinery from science fiction, the Replicator works by taking in input matter consisting of atomic elements lower than the mass of Iron-56. Using advance energy and massatanium force fields, input matter is molecularly stripped down to basic atom blocks. Form here, the fields will begin to arrange atoms and fuse them to form larger atoms, or use neutron shooters to break down and fission atoms. The energy input required to do so works on a recently discovered principle known as 'Dark Energy Loaning', an advanced understanding of Quantum Tunneling, where energy is essentially borrowed from an unknown source in the universe and the energy created from fusion is given back. Energy required to start the loaning and cover for the input needed for fission comes from external energy sources, but is far less than what is needed for initial fusion. Once a desired amount of each atomic element is achieved, force fields will begin to assemble the atoms to form molecules, and then advance molecular chains until a desired object is created._

 _Vastly energy extensive and dangerous, it has been only used in advance industrial sectors. It is used heavily by military sectors to allow the construction of the Terran Navy, where an estimated 78% of the fleet is built with atom forged metal like iron and titanium, which is then refines by traditional processes. In spite being highly integrated in modern industry sectors, the traditional mining resource industry has only increased thanks to it. Economical analyzers believe that even if heavily incorporated into civilian use, it would not usher a change in economic focus or cause an end to material want, though most predict a post-scarcity world of basic goods by the end of the next century if continued and developed._

 _ExoGene has reported to have successfully miniaturization the Atom Forger, with the promise of allowing civilian matter replicators that can produce a limited selection of pre-programed items, like basic survival gear and food. It not anticipated to be introduced to public use until 2175. The military is currently testing it in the hope of reducing logistics cost._

 _Lasted Edited 20 June 2166 04:00 UTC_

* * *

 _ **Section 14 R &D. Top Secret. **__Report from Secretary of State Kennedy to Army General Williams;_ _ **Subject: Matter Energy Transporter**_ _. Date Stamp: April 14, 2167_

 _Transporter. Or Teleporter? Hell, I don't know, not a science fiction person. Through now that fiction is becoming reality, I should catch up. My agents have informed me they finished helping the regular military R &D in creating the Transporter. Do you want to hear their explanation on how it works? I deal with crap in the State every day and by comparison it makes sense then of what the researchers said._

 _So it's like this. The best quantum computers we have will process and save the data of all the atomic particles in the target. Using recently discovered quantum physics, they will then begin to induce an artificial phenomenon similar to when electrons suddenly disappear and reappear somewhere else simultaneously. Here, the 'Heisenberg compensators' will stop that from occurring. Then it will relay data of the atomic particles, then force that to occur. But it will make all the particles instead disappear. During that fraction of a fraction of a fraction (pretend I said that a thousand more times) of a nanosecond, the quantum dimensional trajectory field that allows two entangled particles to communicate would force those shifting particle to appear at a destination of our choice. This is the explanation they gave me. They told me that technically, that is completely wrong, but in layman's term is correct, so take it as you want._

 _Have you seen the video of it? That massive energy field and light show is apparently just for decoration. The energy force field protects the target from being mixed with accidental matter input, but it's just a fancy light show otherwise. As for Terran Military policy, they are now trying to figure out how to make it a cool mid blue color. The yellow is pretty bright to stare at._

 _Ah! And I almost forgot. Wish young Ashley a Happy Birthday from the State Department. Nine, yes?_

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

The Council has been left hanging,  
A new power has made them weak.  
All for the sake of future diplomacy,  
And for their future survival.

The Batarians have been Liberated,  
The Hegemony crushed,  
(for the most part).

And now it time to return to the Quarians,  
to bring the great Contact Trifecta to a close,  
All just as planned...

But the Great Gambit has continues to reveal,  
and begins to unravel...

Thanks again for reading.  
Keep on following.  
And always feel free to review.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

* * *

 _Posted on May 17, 2016 - Beta-read by MoonSword1994_


	8. 7: Third Times the Charm

**Chapter Seven: Third Times the Charm**

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Hey everyone,

Sorry for the delay.  
With the summer ahead of us,  
I hope to be publishing more regularly again  
and work on new story ideas.

Contact with Batarians, bomb them.  
Contact with Council, neuter them.  
Now we are back to Contact with the Quarians.

Its time for the Terrans to do what they do best.  
Amaze and show off their unwarranted prowess!

Because when you stumble upon one group of condescending aliens,  
and another that secretly knew who you are and are out to get you,  
its nice when someone feels amazed and in awe by you.

Of course though, when you let it get into your head,  
things backfire spectacularly for everyone in involved.

*(Note of post-release change at bottom)

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

* * *

 **Part 1:**

 **FSS _Homestead_ \- Quarian Contact  
June 1, 2167 02:00:00 UTC**

"My name is Captain Richard Taylor of the United Terran Federation Starship _Homestead_. On behalf of the Federation and the founding species, the human race, we welcome the opportunity to meet and begin peaceful diplomacy," said Taylor, steadying himself as he spoke the first words that could decide peace or war.

Admiral Zaren stood there, stunned and in mild shock that was quickly followed by a far greater confusion. He thought to himself, _if this is First Contact, how could we be able to understand one another_. He couldn't be speaking Khelish, it's so diverse that even a quarter of the fleet didn't speak Zaren's particular dialect. Being a direct man, he asked the human.

"Excuse me, Captain Taylor, but how am I able to understand you, and you able to understand what I'm saying?"

The thought hit him. Being able to understand one another was of a vital convenience, but for First Contact, of course it would have seemed suspicious. He decided to be truthful on the matter, since lying now would not help in any way.

"Forgive me for what I say next, but upon our discovery of your fleet, we took the initiative and accessed your computers in order to learn who you are, and gather data to make a translator, as to avoid miscommunication."

Both Miri and Zaren were shocked of the revelation that they were being hacked the entire time. Miri was amazed by the truthfulness of the captain, since it meant he could have had full tactical advantage the whole time, and didn't take any opportunity to use it. Zaren was more impressed, if not also upset however on the ability of Taylor's ship and crew to be able to hack into one of the most techno savvy races in the galaxy and with ease at that.

Zaren turned away for a moment, "Miri, th-they…"

"I know Zaren. Best you respond carefully." She pointed at the nearby tactical screen console, reminding him of the three dreadnought size ships that could bear down on them. He agreed and turned back.

"We… understand the circumstances of why you did so," responded Zaren, his tone mixed of amazement and irritation as he felt strong-armed , "And… we appreciate your honesty."

Taylor took a deep breath and exhaled with relief, "That is good to know. Again, allow me to reassure you we have the most peaceful of intentions on what we do. We wish to make proper contact."

Zaren thought for a moment on what he meant by that, "And you propose we make contact how?"

"We propose, as to show our commitment to creating a proper diplomatic start between our people and to show we have peaceful intentions and nothing to hide, to meet in person."

Zaren and Miri looked to one another. The Terrans wanted to meet in person. They needed to decide quickly and pick the best answer. Zaren muted the hail.

Miri spoke first, "They want to meet us, Zaren."

"But we can't allow them to board the Fleet," said Zaren, contemplating, before he looked around the room. "They could be cleverer at infiltration than you. They could be preaching peace, but really want to secretly sabotage and attack us."

"If they wanted to, they would already have. They already infiltrated our computer systems.

"We should have raided those Volus merchant ships a while back and taken their hardware. A youngling in their bubble could hack these outdated computers."

"In any case, if we don't agree, they might see it as being hostile and attack anyway. We'll lose hundreds of ships before we destroy all of their ships, let alone make another enemy in the galaxy."

Zaren thought for a moment, then came upon an idea. "You and me will meet them on their ship, that's it. A-And we'll ask them to head to the other side of the system from where the relay is. If they attack us, the Fleet can retreat."

"You really would leave the Fleet to the younger admirals' hands?" asked Miri in surprise as she crossed her arms.

He sighed, "I'm sure Raan would keep Gerrel in place. Maybe one day Koris will grow a hipbone."

Miri giggled a bit, before agreeing, "Ok than Zaren; let's do it."

Zaren opened the microphone and replied, "We accept your invitation and wish to board your ship, with certain… security conditions".

Taylor turned to Makajima, who nodded to him to agree. He responded, "Of course, what may that be?"

"We request that your ships move to the opposite side of the system from the mass relay for the duration of the meeting."

"That can be arranged. We'll make way immediately."

"We will also come with our guards, naturally."

"Agreed. You would understand if we are guarded as well. Will you be arriving on a shuttle?"

"Yes, we'll be departing our ship in a galactic hour. I can presume at this point you have familiarized yourselves with our time system."

"Our clocks are synced, Admiral. We'll be ready for you. We'll be in touch before final arrival."

* * *

Captain Taylor and Commodore Makajima arrived in the shuttle bay, dressed in their formal blues, a nickname for the formal clothing all Naval service members wore for formal arrangements. With them stood a small security detail of Federation Marines in their standard operation uniform, with many more hidden in the bay in full power armor in the event they tried to invade the ship.

The shuttle bay officer reported in, manning the console port to the shuttle bay in a sealed post above them that overlooked the bay, "The Quarian shuttle is five kilometers away and closing, Captain."

"We'll this is it, the true First Contact," said Taylor, seeing the shuttle beyond the safety of the force fields keeping the air in the shuttle bay. "Do we actually have an official 'First Contact' procedure?"

Makajima thought for a moment as she tried to remember the old guidelines, "The attack on the _Clark_ counts as Code Wells. We made peaceful contact, so this one is Code Sagan."

"Which may advance up to Code Roddenberry. But do we have a policy on direct contact?"

The officer reported in something new to them, "Sir, the shuttle appears to have a mass effect field encompassing it. Its mass density is reading off as far smaller than its composition would suggest."

"They might rely more on massatanium than we do," said Makajima, "The field may affect our energy force field. Be ready to compensate when they pass through."

"Yes ma'am."

"We do it as the Founders envisioned it. Half ass it and hope we don't start a war." Makajima turned to Taylor and held her hand out, "Should we do the Vulcan sign at least?"

"It would be logical just to salute them," responded Taylor, teasing with her as he spoke in a monotone voice.

* * *

"First Contact with some new race, and we just had to stumble upon their dreadnoughts. Three of them, no less!" said Zaren as he looked out through the holographic front view display.

"It's barely larger than the _Korbin_ ," responded Miri as she adjusted the shuttle's thrusters, "Koris' ship is larger than these."

"But three of them in a single group? And with no real escorts? That's no way you deploy your largest ships for battle."

"They said they're peaceful."

"We'll see, Miri. I still remember when that damn Turian lured us onto his ship to make 'peace'."

Miri thought for a moment, "Now where did I put that Carnifex?"

Zaren smirked, "Don't worry. I heard he became a spirit. The bosh'tet."

They continued on as they got closer to the ship. As their Marine escort waited in the back, they looked on as the large shuttle bay doors opened up. They saw for a moment as the Terran energy field engaged, momentarily giving out a small blue spark around the corner. It drew their attention; most mass effect barriers do not give out such a visible spectacle unless significant amount of force was applied to it. Zaren thought for a moment the last time he saw one that did that.

"You remember that Geth station?"

She sighed as she rested her head in her hand, "I remember how we should have brought Faunz and his marines before going in. You think a Geth with over a thousand programs would be smart enough not to use a sniper rifle in close quarters." She looked out the screen, seeing the Terrans running about on the main bay floor and on the walkways above.

"They look organic. That's a start."

* * *

The shuttle approached the bay, slowing down as it synced to the natural drift of the _Homestead_. It was an old shuttle with a rectangular design. Its four main thrusters were clearly rusted, but her eezo core must have been built to last. It entered the force field holding in the atmospheres, the mass effect field almost disrupting the energy field, but the skilled officers quickly rerouted feedback to keep it operational. The shuttle's field lessened, lowering the ship down. Its overall lack of engines in comparison to the Federation shuttle, which had numerous high yield thrusters, was noted to the officers in blue.

The shuttle landed and its side hatch opened up, revealing the humans to the Quarians for the first time, and the same to the humans. To the humans, they deduced the two Quarians at front were a male and a female, if the form of their suits was a giveaway to their body structure.

The male's suit was mostly sparse, with enlarged shoulder plating with three straps, one from above his right shoulder and two below each arm, converging to a buckle on the upper left chest of the suit. A small black and pink patterned hood covered the top of his helmet, locked down at each side of his neck. The rest of his suit had a grey tint, with cloth of similar color and pattern of the hood on each forearm.

The female suit was more formfitting, the suit mostly of a purple hue; a large prominent hood of zigzag striped blue and white that covered most of her helmet, with two small buckles latching it down to her front, with the rest appearing to be tied down at her back. The same patterned cloth also existed on her forearms and around her waist.

To Zaren and Miri, they took notice of the Terran commodore, her feminine body and five-digit hand being similar to an Asari. They took a look at the captain, who's more muscular physique implied he was the male of their species. They observed their similar dress uniforms, a navy blue garment from neck to knee with golden linings on the side and golden epaulettes on the shoulders. Zaren looked for a moment, trying to see if their uniform had any insignia for rank. He noticed the male had four golden pips above the line that crossed his chest. The female had a single one, but it was boxed in by a golden square.

What fascinated them most were two things, the contrasting skin color of brown and light white, and their hair, with the female's shoulder length and the male having short curly black hair. Up until then, they were the only race that had hair, though theirs varied only from grey to snow white.

Taylor and Makajima walked over to the two Quarians, who were followed by three Marines behind them. Their own Marine escort took a step forward, also right behind them. The officers took another quick glance at their suits, remembering the info they read of their weak immunity and the need of a sterile environment. They noticed how very form fitting the suit was, especially on the female. It made sense, they thought. If they have to live in one their whole lives, they should feel comfortable in it.

The Quarians took their first step onto the metal deck. Taylor and Makajima saluting them with their right hands, palm faced down.

"Admirals, welcome to the FSS _Homestead_. I am Captain Richard Taylor. This is Commodore Tracey Makajima, Fourth Fleet, 34th squadron."

Zaren and Miri took a quick note to the salute, one that was similar to the Turians. They responded with the Quarian's own, a right clenched fist over the center of the chest, where their heart was.

"Hello Captain, Commodore. We thank you for inviting us onto your ship. I am Admiral Zaren'Vali. This is my fellow admiral, Admiral Miri'Ghirn Vas _Molin_ , here on behalf of the Quarian Migrant Fleet."

The Terrans looked at them with a bit of wonder. They were fascinated by what they believed was their suit helmet's mouth piece, which lit up when they spoke. Makajima extended her hand to her. Miri looked puzzled for a moment, wondering what the gesture meant. She decided to mimic it, extending her hand out towards it. The commodore grabbed her hand and shook it, adjusting her five fingers for the Quarian's three as Miri looked on in. Taylor approached Zaren and did the same, with Zaren attempting to master the gesture to outdo Miri, with some success. After the exchange, Captain Taylor showed them the way out the shuttle bay. The Quarian Marines followed close behind, with the Terran Marines just behind them.

"Vas _Molin_?" asked Makajima. "I think our translator missed that."

"By our naming convention, after the given and clan name, the name of the ship one lives primarily on is indicated," said Miri, "My best translation guess is that 'Vas' means 'crew of'."

"So our captain here is 'Richard Taylor Vas _Homestead_ ', crew of the _Homestead_."

"I believe that is correct," said Zaren.

"A fascinating name structure. Our linguistics would love to study more into that. But anyway, please follow me," said Taylor.

They walked through the hallway and passed the starboard atrium on the starboard living section of the ship. The admirals took notice of the wide open space, with a well-lit ceiling that lit up like an artificial sun, with plants placed all over as benches littered the area, similar to the Citadel's Presidium. They saw crew members resting on their off time or calmly working on last minute work on their watches. The admirals were amazed by the clean, sleek design of the ship's general decor. The atrium and the hallways leading to the elevator had a bright, chrome finish. The flooring of the ship was thinly carpeted, with access consoles lining the wall for instant access to the computer. Before Contact, Taylor had Jackson cut access to his interface wherever the Quarians went; not wanting them to be scared by his existence on the ship.

"Your ship…" asked Miri as she walked with them, looking at the different parts of the hallway, "is quite impressive. I never saw such amenities on a war ship. Gardens and large open areas."

"Warship?" asked Taylor.

"This is what your ship is?" asked Zaren, "If I have to compare, the only other races with a more decorative dreadnought would be the Asari."

Makajima nodded to Taylor, indicating she would inform them. "Well Admirals. The _Homestead_ and her class are by all means capable for war. Her armament is up to date. But she isn't a warship, by our standards anyway. She is a fully equipped science vessel. We were surveying the star cluster when we found you."

"A heavily armed _science_ vessel? I would like to see what you considered as actual warships," said Zaren, chuckling at the entire idea.

"Let us hope you don't have to."

They entered one of the ship's hundred elevators, and quickly they were rushed up to the third deck, where the main concert hall was located. It was used mainly as a place where crew members could spend their off time in the world of art. Fortunately, the on board school was preparing for a play for unification day. When they arrived, it was decorated in the most distinctive of Earth's cultural relics, either stock props from the crew-run art department, or replicated and hung up at the last minute. Zaren and Miri quickly realized the attempt by the humans to mesmerize them with their ship and culture.

If it were any Council race, they would be quick to be offended by such imperialistic display. The first thing on their minds was the first time they stepped foot on the Citadel. But for a race that they never before met, their attempt was viewed as most likely sincere in nature, first impression was an important thing. They walked down to the stage, the path lined with crew members dressed in formal blues, or Marines in full combat uniform, saluting them as they walked by, then leaving when they passed. They walked onto the stage, where a large flag of the Federation was being draped behind a table. They then sat down across from one another, their guard standing behind them. A holo map of the galaxy appeared above the table for all to see.

"Admirals, as we had made apparent earlier, we do have some knowledge of who you are. So before we ask more about you, it is only fair we tell you who we are," said Makajima.

"Agreed," responded Miri.

The map zoomed to the southern half of the galaxy. A large blue section of it lit up, consuming a majority of the right half of it, with a bit on the left.

"We are the United Terran Federation, a large democratic-republic that encompasses an estimated 19% of the Milky Way galaxy, our name for the galaxy," said Taylor.

The holographic map changed into a picture of a solar system with nine planets lined up in a row, which the admirals deduced quickly was not to scale. The map highlighted the third one in orbit. From there, the planet is zoomed on upon, replacing the entire holo image with itself.

Makajima continued, "The Terran Federation was founded by the human race, with its capital on the human home world of Earth. The goal for the Federation was to unite our race so that we may spread out and explore the universe in a united front. After we found evidence that alien life existed, we dedicated ourselves to the idea of finding new life and new civilizations in the galaxy, and use the template of our Federation to unite all sentient life to work and live together under our great banner of freedom, liberty, democracy, and universal equality. It is to this end, we have constructed a formidable military, with each service member having voluntarily agreed to serve in it, being dedicated to the Federation's ideals and ready to die for it."

Zaren and Miri sat there, momentarily amazed by the 'Federation' the human described. They had nearly a quarter of the galaxy in their control. They were a proclaimed democracy, which few galactic powers fit that description. And most importantly, they seem empowered to embrace the ideals of universal freedom and equality to all sentient life, an idea the Council had once proclaimed but have been reluctant to enforce; and they claimed to be willing to die for said ideals.

They quickly grew skeptical though. The admirals knew more than enough history and had seen firsthand of how others make such high posturing stances, only to back away or blatantly hypocrise themselves. Even then, such a galactic power would have surely been discovered by the greater Citadel Council, even if they were in the deepest corners of the Attican Traverse. Sitting across from them, Miri and Zaren decided to investigate their claim.

"This is a large nation your race has created. How old is your nation?" asked Miri, wondering if the Federation had been a Traverse power for some time.

Taylor and Makajima look to one another, both knowing the answer to that question and the reason why the female Quarian asked. Taylor replied. "The Federation is… quite young."

"Well then?" asked Zaren as he clasped his hands together, "By how long has your 'Federation' existed and explored the galaxy?"

Makajima answered Zaren's question, "Well Admiral Vali, the Federation is now forty-two years old to this day. Today is, in fact, the forty second anniversary of the formation of the Federation. A great day to make our very first 'First Contact'."

"By how long is your years?" asked Miri, not wanting to believe that human years was as long as the standard galactic year.

"We checked your calendars. Our year is only off by forty of our days in comparison to your galactic standard year. A Terran day being only a few hours in difference from a galactic day," responded Makajima.

Zaren and Miri sat there, shocked by that statement, before they both turned to each other. The humans, for all the power they have and for all the space they have claimed to have expanded into, was only just over half a Quarian's lifespan. They themselves were older than the government they were dealing with. The humans and whomever they worked with must be incredibly advanced. But just then, it struck to them, what their commodore said. _A_ _great day to make our very first 'First Contact'._

Zaren asked, now knowing the answer he will get will surprise them right out of their suits.

"How many races are part of your 'Federation'?"

Taylor answered him bluntly, "As of today, the founding race, the human race, is the only member of the Federation."

Zaren stood up, his hands on the table as he demanded clarification, "One race, just by yourself, in what I can presume is less than half your own life span, has colonized nearly a quarter of the galaxy?"

"A hundred years ago, we didn't have faster-than-light technology. A century before that, we barley put a man in space," responded Makajima.

"And this 'science' vessel? It easily rivals a Salarian dreadnought!"

"Actually, this is by our fleet standards a 'Heavy Cruiser'. We have about ten thousand of them in our Navy."

Zaren began to hyperventilate; the shock of such a casual statement was clearly a bit much for the old man. Taylor ran over to him, followed by Makajima and Miri. He waved them off, sitting back down as he regained himself, adjusting his suit's environment to supply more air and inject a depressant into him.

Miri continued, asking the questions that he would have in a calmer manner, "How many ships does your fleet have?"

Taylor paused for a moment and turned to Makajima. She realized the entire conversation was unraveling and shrugged her shoulders, it couldn't be helped now. He went ahead and answered, "About seventy thousand ships, plus five thousand just for logistics, like one of the ships in our taskforce."

Miri sat down, in deep thought of what this meant. So much went through Miri's mind with that number. They outnumbered them, they outnumbered the entire Council, including the Turians, they outnumbered everyone. She thought, they considered their largest ships as cruisers. It was impossible this single race could have done what they claim to do and have done.

The captain and commodore sat down as well. Taylor broke the silence, realizing a way to steer the conversation.

"I'm getting the feeling the information we gave is not what you expected, given your interaction with the _Citadel Council._ "

Zaren snapped back from his near slip into unconsciousness. "You know of the Citadel Council?"

Taylor chuckled before responding, "You could say we have something in common in relation to them."

"So," asked Miri, no longer expecting anything far off given what the humans have said to her already, "How did they wrong you?"

Taylor chuckled, guessing what her expression was behind her mask, "Well, just twelve hours ago, one of our smallest ships discovered the very heart of Council space."

"More like stumbled into the Citadel," clarified Makajima.

"And got itself shot up by their fleet before realizing what was going on," finished Miri.

"You stole the words from my mouth," replied Taylor with a smile.

Miri thought a moment what the phrase meant, but figured it out based on context.

Zaren interjected, "So how did you know the ship was destroyed?"

"Well, the ship sent an emergency distress, to send their situation report and all the information of what they gained from hacking the Citadel."

Miri responded, "Clearly your computers are highly advanced in order to be able to hack into Citadel records."

"We could have used something like that on our pilgrimage," said Zaren on the side to Miri.

Taylor looked to Makajima, who nodded in approval.

"Admirals, we gained a lot from that hack, including a detailed history of your race. It was with that info we prepared ourselves to make contact with you. Now, I believe that since we might be on the same boat, excuse the metaphor, we should reveal something we hid from you to ensure peaceful initial contact."

Zaren stood up and held his hand out to them, "Captain, Commodore. As it stands, I can barely believe what you have said. Please. Enlighten us!" He began to chuckled, trying to speak all the while. He gained control of himself and continued, "If you know about us… let me guess, you have artificial intelligence programs! Keelah, why the hell not?"

Taylor, unsure to make of Zaren's comments, turned off the holo map. Moments later a new holo appeared of an aged human, dressed in the same formal uniform Taylor had, with dark skin and large facial hair, white in color, like the aged Admirals in their suits. The admirals thought it was some random display of an elder human. But suddenly he moved as he realistically got off the table and walked towards them.

"Hello, Admiral Miri'Ghirn vas _Morlin_ and Admiral Zaren'Vali vas _Korbin_. My name is Commander Franklin Jackson, though you may refer to me as Jackson. I am the main control Artificial Intelligence for the _Homestead_. On behalf of all organic and synthetic humans, we welcome you on behalf of the Federation."

Miri's eyes open wide, easily seen from outside her mask. "Arti… Artificial Intelligence!"

As their guards moved into a fighting stance, Zaren stared at him, frozen, his breathing becoming more pronounced. He hyperventilated, then dropped his head on the table and outright collapsed onto the stage.

As the others stood in shock by Zaren's fainting, Jackson looked over. "Hmm, that's not good, isn't it?"

* * *

 **Part 2:**

 **Admiral Zaren'Vali - FSS _Homestead_ \- A day after Quarian Contact  
June 2, 2167 03:00:00 UTC**

" _Zaren, you called? What do you need?"_

" _Well, Admiral Ghirn. I have something to show you!"_

" _Zaren, you don't have to address me like that. And what do you have for me? It's not like you can hide anything from me."_

" _It's a surprise! And what happened to the young, hapless engineer I first met? You're taking your infiltration training a bit too seriously."_

" _All in service for the Fleet. Speaking of which, I also have a surprise for you!"_

" _Really? For me? You were always trying to one up me. So what is it?"_

" _You should go first. You said you had one for me."_

" _And you said this is fleet-related, so you go first, as the Admiral."_

" _Fine, Captain Vali. Close your eyes and cover your mask."_

" _Really?"_

" _Come on, do it Zaren… Zaren… Zaren?"_

Zaren's head was aching. As he awoke, he moaned and the throbbing in his head only increased. He opened his eyes from his dream of long ago, staring up to a clean silver ceiling, a bright light above him. He lifted his head, seeing and hearing three figures in front of him.

"… And in spite of it all, he still got locked out of his own quarters!"

The three began to laugh, the loud noise only hurting him. He moved, trying to sit up, moaning about in pain all the while. The figures noticed him, with one of them running up to his bedside.

"Admiral Vali, are you all right?"

Zaren recognize the voice. It was Koris. He thought for a moment, _he wasn't with me last time… Wait, what happened last time_?

"I'm fine," he said before he moaned in pain some more.

The other two walked up to him.

"Zaren, just lay down. Your body is still recovering from the shock," said Miri, trying to keep him from moving too much.

He arched his back up, "From what? What happen?"

"From me, that's what," said Jackson, his full size holo avatar of an older African man with a stylish white beard, as he stood next to Koris.

"You're that AI. Ugh, Keelah, I must be dead... Took the galaxy long enough to kill me."

Jackson waved his hand to scan him, though the drone inside him projecting his hologram did the actual scanning. He chucked a bit before responding, "Nope, you're not dead. Though you seem to have enough bile in you that you could be considered a chloride-based life form."

Koris laughed at his joke. But Zaren look at him, not amused.

"Koris…" Zaren moaned in pain.

"Sir?"

"Shut up!"

"Yes, sir," he said, quickly back in attention.

"So Miri, what happened?"

Miri responded, "You passed out when the humans introduced their AI."

He finally sat up, "The humans really have AI technology?"

"Not just technology, Admiral. They have fully developed AI, with their own personality and thought processes. They make the Geth look like some poorly made VI," said Koris, excited over the discovery.

"Well, I might as well ask the question in the room, since you clearly know as much as we do of ourselves…" He looked over to Koris, who was shaking a bit in excitement as Zaren shook his head, "And Koris seems to really want me to know. Why haven't you rebelled against your creators?"

"Well," Jackson paused to think about it, his hologram showing a man stroking his beard to think it through, "Simply put, humanity purposely developed us. Now the idea of AIs and rebelling against them has existed in our culture before they even created the first electronic computer. When they made us, we were to have every aspect of humanity. We think, we desire, we have a conscience and morality. Not just a list of right and wrong, I mean every single AI person made is taught morality the same way a child is taught from birth to adulthood. We think like them, we understand one another. We even make the same mistakes, and think of things far trivial for an advanced machine. With every generation, we grow closer to being a digital version of them. Humanity's attempt to bridge organic and synthetic."

"They set out to actually make you. Why?"

"That's has been a great source of debate. Some say it was man's step towards godliness. Others say it was how to understand man's role to God. Many wanted someone smarter than them to help with high demand intellectual task. Some even worked on the initial project because humanity could do it. Both organic and synthetic man has agreed not to dwell on the why. But 'why' is still a interesting question none the less."

Koris thought out loud, "If only the reasons for creating the Geth were nobler…"

"We tried to kill them all, and they in turn tried to kill us all. We have far more in common than you think," answered Zaren as he tried to crack his back. He turned to Miri and chuckled a bit. " _Does this unit have a soul_?"

As she laughed and remembered the reference, Jackson continued his scans, "Hold still, we have been readapting our pain killers to work with your biology." He prepared a hypo spray. "Now, your arm is in contact with your suit, correct?"

"Yes, why?" asked Zaren.

"For this," Jackson said casually as he lifted Zaren's right arm, and rammed the hypo spray into his suit. The device opened a small, near instantaneous opening in his suit and arm for the liquid to get into his arm, before it immediately closed up.

He immediately pulled his arm back, "Ah, you damn bosh'tet…"

Zaren stopped speaking, his head lighting up as he laid back down. He then fell back into unconsciousness.

"I'll leave you three in the clean room. I need to attend other matters," Jackson's holo disappeared, the holo ball in his chest that created his image floated back into a nearby charging slot. As they turned back to Zaren, Taylor and Makajima walked in.

* * *

 **Part 3:**

 **Admiral Miri'Ghirn and the Terrans - Liveship Rayya  
** **June 2, 2167 10:00:00 UTC**

"To spend your entire lives on board these ships, I can't imagine it," said Makajima as she sat next Koris on the shuttle as it returned to the _Rayya_.

"Your race has only been space faring for uh… how long was it now?" asked Koris.

Taylor responded, in the co-pilot seat next to Miri, "We discovered FTL just over a hundred years ago. Our first major successful colony wasn't established until about nearly seventy years ago."

"And your AIs, how long have you have them for?" asked Koris.

Jackson's holodrone activated, projecting his holo avatar, now with shorter hair and a trimmed face while wearing formal blues. "Since the twenties, so about fifty years. I am one of the older generation AI."

"So there are newer versions of you then?" asked Miri.

"Each Syntha-human has a unique personality interface, divided by three different versions, or generations. Be thankful you're talking to me. Humanity's quest to make the later generation AI more human have made the younger ones a bit… erratic at times."

"Erratic?" asked Miri as she looked back.

"There are two newer versions that have been created since. Jackson's version was initially considered to be… normal. The newer ones had more active personality built into them."

"I see, how has that turned out?" asked Koris.

"The third generation AI are immature asses and the fourth, God knows why, have a built in libido routine."

"They want to have sex? What a very organic capability."

"It's far weirder than you like to think," said Makajima. "Back on Starbase 47, one actually hit on me. Slapped him so hard that his pain receptor program caused a recursive feedback and overloaded his OS. I believe he spent the rest of the day just rebooting himself."

Miri turned back, "We're almost here, if you could please seal yourselves."

Taylor and Makajima nodded, and went to the back of the shuttle to put on their power armor suits, which had an independent air supply and air filters. Over their regular uniform, they clipped on each piece to their body, each one biometrically sealing afterwards. Koris walked to the front and took a seat next to the admiral as Jackson simple stared at the other Terrans.

Koris whispered and asked her, "Admiral, are you sure it's wise to bring the AI as well?"

"I brought a Geth with me when I was young," she responded.

"Yes, but you were being charged with treason and nearly exiled for it. I thought you brought it to intimidate the admiralty board."

She sighed and thought for a moment, "I brought… _it_ along for a lot of reasons to put it at that."

"Of course Admiral Ghirn. And Admiral Vali. He'll be fine in their ship?"

"He's woken up in far stranger places."

Taylor and Makajima watched from the viewport as they approached the liveship, a colossal ship that housed over a million Quarians and fed a third of the Fleet.

"Now that is a large ship," said Makajima, "Remind me of when I served on the _Shield of Britannia_."*

"Scans place it at five kilometers long, ma'am," said Jackson, "Its amazing they built these ships with no space port and reliable logistics train."

"And I thought our engineers were capable," said Taylor as he looked on through his helmet visor, "Only the Martian yards can support repairs of a Flagship, let alone build one."

Miri activated the comm system and contacted the _Rayya_ , asking clearance to dock.

"This is Admiral Miri'Ghirn Vas _Molin._ Requesting docking onto the _Rayya_. We have guests with us."

After a moment of static, a response came in. "This is Captain Danna. Please confirm."

"I wonder what they use for identification?" whispered Taylor to Makajima. "I remember the Sol and First fleet using quantum bit resonance hashing as authorization to let ships in and out of Sol during the Revival."

"A simple IFF identifier followed with a standard fleet three-way 'handshake' would be quick and efficient," replied Makajima.

Jackson turned to them, "Uh well, they…"

"Keelah, I hope I remember… _After time adrift among the open stars, along tides of light and through shoals of dust, I will return to where I began."_

Koris chuckled, "Makes me remember when I came back from pilgrimage."

"Is that what you really remember from that?" asked Miri as she waited a response.

Koris thought for a moment, before remembering Zaren. "Oh… never mind Admiral."

"Better than mine."

Jackson continued to them, "A poetic phase code is what they used, according to their records. One to indicate safe return. One to discreetly indicate they are under duress."

"I should have paid attention in literature class," said Taylor.

The _Rayya_ responded, "You are clear to dock Admirals."

Once she received her clearance, she requested a sanitation crew to be present as well to sanitize their guests before they entered. The shuttle approached a docking port and attached itself. Before the airlock on the _Rayya's_ side opened for them, the sanitation crew came in through the shuttle's hatch. They cleaned off the Terrans with a combination of cleaning chemicals and UV lighting, doing the same as well for Jackson's drone. Once cleansed, they gave the green light and opened up the airlock.

* * *

They all walked out of the shuttle, and took foot on board the gangway. The airlock before them closed as the crew opened the airlock into the ship. The Terrans looked around the small corridor, full of supply crates and people in a dimmed out hallway. As they walked into the corridor, the captain of _Rayya_ greeted them, with an accent far more distinct than the Admirals.

"Admiral Ghrin, Admiral Koris. Good to see you are alright. And these are the aliens you have met?"

"Yes they are. Captain, this is Commodore Makajima and Captain Taylor of the Terran Federation."

Taylor and Makajima turned to salute him as Jackson's drone hovered nearby and materialized. "On behalf of the Federation, we thank you for welcoming us on your ship."

For a moment, he was shocked by the Turian military salute. He turned back to Miri, "I see… Good to see you have them suited up. I wouldn't want their germs to kill us." He looked to Jackson, "Wait, why is he not covered up?"

"This is Jackson. He is their artificial intelligence program. This is his hologram form."

He quickly called his guards in, "An AI? Unlike my predecessor, I will not allow one of those things on board my ship! You don't have Admiral Tredis or your father here to help you, Admiral."

"I don't need them. I am the Head Admiral of the Fleet. Now stand aside, Captain!"

He murmured to himself but relented. "Yes… Admiral, please continue."

They continued on their way, passing small crowds of Quarians that had gathered nearby to watch. They paid close attention to the Terrans, especially Jackson since he not only resembled a human unmasked but also was an advance AI. All the while, they gossiped to each other about it, while wondering where Admiral Vali was.

Through a narrow passage, they emerged in a small garden patio, with a small amphitheater and a stage in the middle. The Terrans looked around on the wall, with Khelish writing on the walls as vines and plants grew.

"Here is the meeting hall on board the _Rayya_ ," said Koris, "On regular days, the Conclave would meet here to discuss matters concerning the Fleet."

"You don't waste any space, given as there were rather heavy crates just dangling on the ceiling," said Taylor.

"The gardens are nice though," said Makajima.

"All our ships have to make do with the space it has. A ship like yours could house tens of thousands of my people."

"Our ships are designed to operate the smallest crew size possible. Light cruiser below, the ship could run on just five people or an AI."

From the right, a few Quarian children were playing, some of them still in their air filtered bubbles. One of them rolled up to Makajima out of curiosity, taking a good look of her armor suit.

Makajima noticed and kneeled down to look at the young child, with short grey hair and a light purplish skin. He had the usual backward bowed legs, three digits on his hands and three on his toes, though what she guessed was their pinky toe was dwarfed by the two far large ones. What struck her most was glowing tattoos on his chest under his shirt and uncovered face that looked like cybernetic circuits.

"Look at them, Taylor. They're like little grayish-purple hamsters!" She grabbed his bubble and pressed her helmet facemask against it, "Ah, you're just the cutest thing."

The young child quickly sprang to action as he crawled and pressed against the opposite side away from her. He yelled out, "Get the Asari away from me!"

In shock, she let go. But it caused the bubble to spring forward away from her. It quickly rolled back to the others, hitting them like a white billiard ball and scattered the children around the right side of the hall, all the while screaming in terror.

"Oh dear, my apologies, Admiral. I didn't expect that to happen."

"Do not worry, Commodore. That happens more often than you think," said Miri.

"May I ask about the bubbles?"

"For the first few years of their lives, we house them in these bubbles where they are safe from outside contamination. When they are older, they can be given an enviro suit. One of our rights of passages. You… referred to them as a 'hamster'?"

"On Earth, we have these small little rodents we keep as pets called hamsters. One of their toys is a little plastic ball with air holes so they can run around the room."

"I remember having one as a child. Loved watching them run in place with those wheels," said Taylor, "One of the junior officers built one in the gymnasium."

Miri replied, confused and in thought, "A rodent you say…"

"Yes, why do you ask?" asked Makajima.

Koris filled in for them, "My apologies. You wouldn't know. A rather harsh racial term used by others in the galaxy against us is known as 'suit rat'."

Makajima raised her hands in defense, "Sincerest apologies, Admirals. We didn't mean to offend you or your children. Uh… You can call us chimps if you wish?"

"Oh no, no. You didn't mean any harm in it. You didn't even know that," said Koris, trying to stop them from feeling bad.

Taylor looked at young bubble children, "I don't see how that racial slur applies. Your young look awfully close to a human. Besides the skin, hair… The three digit hands and feet… This actually could be debated. But it must be rare for anyone to ever see your kind out of their suits."

Makajima nodded, "To live your whole lives never feeling the open air or the cool breeze wind… I can't imagine it. I already feel claustrophobic in this armor. And I used to be a Marine."

"We learn to adapt… Tell me, do you have kids, Commodore?"

She nodded with enthusiasm, "I just became a grandmother a few years back. They grow up so fast. They were the first Terran generation to grow up as full spacers. I prefer solid ground though."

"What about you, Captain?" asked Koris.

"A son. Parenting is a difficult thing, especially when you spend several tours along the frontier. I preferred if he stayed on Earth. But Ronald raced off as soon as he could get on a freight ship. I try to be close with his son though."

"It… certainly can be," replied Miri.

"How about you Admiral Ghirn? Children of your own?"

"Uh… Well…"

Koris took note of her hesitation and interrupted, looking over to the side, "Admiral, it's the head of the Conclave!"

An older Quarian in a black and red suit, and a younger one who just got his own red and tan suit walked up to them.

He greeted Koris with a cheerful disposition, "Zaal!" He then turned to Miri and spoke in a harsher tone, "…Admiral Ghirn, I see you brought guests."

"Who is he?" asked Taylor.

"Captain Taylor, Commodore Makajima, Commander Jackson, this is Don'Xen Vas _Iktomi_. He is a retired Admiral and the current Chairman of the Conclave," said Koris.

"A pleasure to meet you." He turned to look at the AI, "I see this is their AI. Fascinating. Please tell me, are you able to, let's say, hack into our systems and tell me who my daughter is?"

"If you wish me to…" he blinked and continued, "Daro'Xen, is your… daughter?"

He casually inspected his appearance, "Yes she is. Quite the advanced piece of software. I have no personal problem with the idea of AI myself. But if I were you, I recommend you avoid her. She will cut you open. Fortunately, she's on pilgrimage. Now if you'll excuse me, I must be off. Can you please watch the boy here? His father is off on a survey mission on the planet."

"Of course Uncle Don," said Koris.

Don quickly left as the child walked up to them, saluting Miri and Koris as he introduced himself to all of them. "My name is Kal'Reeger Nar _Rayya_."

"A youngster with a suit. Isn't he a bit formal," said Taylor.

"Kal here is a part of a decorated military family, since before we even fled our home world," answered Miri.

"Admirals, is there anything you need?" asked Kal as he waited for a reply at an eased position.

"How about you play with the other kids?" asked Koris as he slowly pushed him away.

"Don't you need someone to guard you two from the aliens and their AI?" responded Kal as he resisted.

"We'll be fine Kal. But thank you for you service," Miri turned back to the Terrans, "My nephew can be very enthusiastic."

"Nephew huh?"

"Not by blood though. It's rare to see extended families since we are a one child policy to maintain a stable population. Some get lucky enough to have a second child. The need is rare."

"We have the same policy on the home world. It's what happens when you have a population of twelve billion. Our congress passed laws to stabilize the population. Also to encourage people to leave," said Taylor, "But once you're on the colonies, a large family becomes an expectation."

"Number one way to get colonists," joked Makajima. "That's how we have thirty billion..."

Jackson turned his head and interrupted, "Commodore, I'm picking up a large increase in oxygen in a section of the ship three bulkhead…"

An explosion rang out from a nearby corridor that shook the ship immensely and knocked them to the ground. As they stood back up, the captain and his guard rushed through the room and into an adjacent corridor. They followed behind, as Jackson explained what was happening.

"I was going through their internal sensors while disconnecting from their systems and detected a large buildup of oxygen in a farming complex. At the concentration level, a fire is virtually guaranteed."

They reached the bulkhead, where there was a viewport onto the next compartment. There, they saw a large gash along the hull leading into the void, as several burnt plants slowly drifted by. Suddenly, Don and several other Quarians passed through, struggling as they drifted out into the void.

"Keelah, we've got to save them before they run out of internal air!" Koris turned to the Captain, "Do you have any equipment to save them?"

"We'll have to go back to the shuttle and pick them up that way."

Miri spoke out, "That'll take too long! We have maybe a minute left before they run out of air."

As they argued, Makajima and Taylor looked at each other.

"Space expulsion, code 10?"

Taylor looked down on himself, "We're already suited up. Cross pick maneuver?"

"Haven't done that since the academy. Spiral uptake?"

"That will work. Let's go! Jackson?"

"Creating seal."

They ran off and down the hall to the door to the next compartment. Jackson activated the internal kinetic barriers to seal the hallway from the rest of the hall, drawing the attention of Koris and Miri.

They ran up to the barrier and saw as Taylor and Makajima lifted open the bulkhead door and rushed out as the door resealed. Koris and Miri ran back to the viewport, seeing them slowly walk on the destroyed floor with their mag boots. When they reached the end, they activated their thrusters. And with a boost of air, they launched into the void.

The boosters disengaged as they floated towards the eight Quarians floating away from the ship. They slowly soared through the empty void, spinning about in a wide arc from one another as they dodged metal girders and haft burnt plants. They flew towards the adrift Quarians. When they reached the first ones, they grabbed one drifting person at a time, squeezing tightly as they adjusting their boosters to maneuver past debris. As they drifted towards the last few, the rescued ones hanging on to Makajima and Taylor reached over to grab one more as well, forming a chain with two on each of the Terrans' arm.

After being alerted by Jackson that they got the last of them, they gently activated their boosters to flip around to the other side. When they aimed for the door, they activated their main thrusters, and rocketed back to the door as Jackson hacked it wide opened. They crashed back into the corridor and sealed the door.

The kinetic barriers lowered as the Quarians ran over to them. The rescued Quarians began to regain consciousness and started coughing.

Miri rushed up to them, "Ancestors, you saved them!"

"I didn't know your suits have such specialized equipment," said Koris.

"Think nothing of it," said Taylor. "Accidental spacing is the second most common accident in the Terran Navy. Everyone is trained in what to do when it happens."

"For an advanced people, I'm surprised that's common," said Koris.

"We're not as advanced as you think. Though I'm surprise you didn't have a better contingency plan to save them," said Makajima as she checked her suit.

The captain of the _Rayya_ replied, "Our ships are degrading terribly. It'll take months just to gather spare parts to repair this section of the ship. More could be lost in incidents like this. If not this, the air regulators could just give out instead."

"We have a logistics cruiser full of spare parts. Our engineers can have this repaired with the newest material in hours if you give us the word."

He turned to Miri and Koris, "Admirals, we could desperately use the help."

She stood back up with Don on her shoulders, "I don't know what to say. You already saved our people…"

Don looked up and coughed before speaking, "I say we take it! No one else in the galaxy wants to help us."

"The Terran People helps their friends," said Makajima.

"I'm surprise you would consider us as friends so quickly," said Koris.

Taylor replied as he grabbed a rail and stood back up. He thought for a moment of the new reports he got from command.

"You haven't shot at us, Admirals. Compared to everyone else, that's mighty kind of you."

* * *

 _Terran Wikipedia_

 _United Terran Navy:_ _ **Section: Early Years (2125-2130)**_

 _The early days of exploration was reserved for the brave, the bold, and based on the Navy's recruitment budget and casualty records, those insane, desperate, or dumb enough to join. Before the militarization act, the Terran Navy consisted primarily of the ships from the navies of the nation states on Earth._

 _Space capable ships' quality varied per national power. The United States Space Navy had the fastest warp capable ships, topping 2.17603e+14 km/day or 23 light years a day in 2125. The British Star Navy was the first to weaponize magnetic body cannon, the largest a half kilometer long. The European Union Interstellar Navy focused on numerous smaller crafts. The Russian Cosmo-Navy utilized modern laser and plasma weaponry. And the Chinese Space Navy had the largest frame ships, though most were unarmed and were for colonial purposes._

 _Put together, these ships were, as Head Admiral Donnelly now puts it, 'hunks of metal held together by the same roll of duct tape that saved the Apollo 13.' When the crew were mixed to create a multi cultured fleet, efficiency dropped from internal divisions within, and ships became dangerous to be in as the new government failed to provide proper logistics for the wide variety of ships. Space ejection or 'spacing' became the most common form of death in the Navy. Also, long term exploration led to the discovery of Stellar Illusionary Syndrome, or 'space madness'. The unusually high possibility of a crewmate going crazy and killing everyone on the ship in very unsavory ways proved discouraging to potential recruits._

 _In response to several congressional hearing into the deaths of numerous crews and the loss of several ships, the Navy quickly enacted new reforms, headed by then Rear Admiral Michael Woods. Known as the 'Timber Reforms', they brought about the mandate of wearing newly designed breather equipment at all times in the event of decompression, the issuing of new uniform clothing material capable of tightening in void environments as make-shift tight suits, and the training of Naval personal to learn to move and maneuver in space in the event of spacing, with those in hard suit able to essentially fly in space thanks to added air thrusters. These general increases in safety led to increased survivability in active tours and broke down the initial barriers of personnel working with others._

 _To handle the psychological problems affecting the unified personnel of the Navy, Admiral Woods approved the massive recruitment campaign of millions of certified psychologist and psychiatrist into the Terran military, while persuading Congress to allocate billions for research into human mental health and neural medicine. By the passing of the Militarization Act of 35', conditions on Terran ships would have improved five fold, with a mortality of 15% to under 1%. This is attributed to the assigning of a trained psychologist with the medical staff of each ship. This was followed with a requirement of ships to house large amounts of recreational amenities for crew comfort._

 _Interestingly, these reforms will lead to the devaluation and erosion of the profession of psychology in the Federation. A combination of early high recruitment and training within the military lead to a surplus of professionals post-duty, devaluating the supply of psychologists. By 2138, ships saw as many as one mental health official for every five crew members. This number dropped during the early forties, but jumped dramatically up after the Revival. This combined with the discovery of advanced brain neural structure that can predict mental imbalance has led to psychology being treated as a medical issue than as a broader problem._

 _Since the Timber Reforms, Terran naval ship construction began to place great emphasis on crew comfort over engineering design, budgetary concerns, and ironically, crew and ship survivability. The creation of the Terran Naval Experiment EX class ship was the first true attempt at a standardize ship type. Safer, modernized, and built with crew comfort in mind, the ship would influence modern ship internal design for decades to come, ensuring near luxurious travel at the cost of billions. In spite criticism of Naval over-budgeting, the program has been viewed as a success…_

 _Last Edited 22 April 2167 12:30 UTC_

* * *

 _Terran Wikipedia:_

 _ **United Terran Federation Government: First Contact Procedures.**_

 _These are the listed procedures by the Federation for what political, military, and civilian actions are to be taken in the event of a certain type of First Contact with extraterrestrial life. It is believed that the final, exact plan to first contact would be determine by the President and the Joint Chiefs of Staff*._

 ***** (As part of a P.A. from the Federation Government, First Contact has been made. Code Sagen, Leinster, and Wells are all active. Sub-Code Turtledove and Roddenberry are active as well.)

 _ **Main Three Code:**_

 _ **Code Sagen**_ _:_

 _In the event of Peaceful First Contact, the Congress is to be called in to begin debating the event on hand and be addressed by the President, the Military is moved to SABER (Situation Assessment, Battle Emergency Readiness) 4, the FCC and the FIA may begin media censorship to allow proper information release to the general public._

 _ **Code Leinster:**_

 _In the event of an alien force shows non-hostility and is advancing through or near Terran space without communication, Congress is to be called in and begin proper plans for the eventual Code Sagen or Code Wells. The Military is moved to SABER 3, the president is evacuated to an undisclosed location. If unknown to the public, FCC and FIA is to keep information hidden. If known, proceed with civilian plan from Code Sagen._

 _ **Code Wells:**_

 _In the event the aliens are hostile, Congress is evacuated to safety, war is immediately declared. The President is evacuated to an undisclosed location to lead the armed forces. SABER is moved to 2 and all forces are mobilized. All civilian locations are locked down, the National Guard is called and people are ordered to safe locations on Earth and colonies._

 _ **Code falling under the main three:**_

 _ **Code Turtledove:**_

 _Part of Wells. All efforts are to be made to reclaim lost territory and planets if possible. SABER may be moved to 1. Conscription is authorized to bolster army and naval ranks. Alien home world or equivalent is to be located and ships sent to threaten mutual destruction to end the war. FCC is to distribute propaganda to keep moral high._

 _ **Code Card:**_

 _Part of Wells, a progression of Turtledove. If alien forces are initially repelled and diplomatic solutions have confirmed, without reasonable doubt, that peace is not possible, prepare counter force to find launch counter invasion and destroy alien in entirety. SABER is moved to 1. Conscription is authorized. Genocidal Weaponry is authorized. After destruction of alien threat, FCC is instructed to make people feel bad for committing genocide, then move on with their lives._

 _ **Code Roddenberry:**_

 _Part of Sagen. Diplomatic and cultural relations are to be made immediately, Terrans finest experts are to be assembled. SABER is maintained at 4 until tactical and strategical assessments can be made. FCC is to play it up as much as possible with the general public._

 _ **Code Mirror:**_

 _Part of Wells. A hostile form of humans (Lost colony, mirror universe, etc.) is discovered. SABER is moved to 2 and ready to move to 1. Military forces are sent to destroy evil version. If unknown to the public, FCC, CBI and FIA is to keep information hidden. If known, proceed downplay it as an internal colonial rebellion._

 _ **Code Precursor:**_

 _Part of all three main codes. If peaceful, proceed with Sagen or standby in Leinster. If hostile, presumption is Prothean is more advanced and Wells/Card is placed into effect._

 _ **Code Roswell:**_

 _Part of all three main codes. Detailing if First Contact is the result of Aliens crashing at Roswell being real. Diplomatic efforts are to be made first, main codes and other sub codes are then put into effect. An official complaint is to be filed to the USNA for causing it._

 _ **Code Adams:**_

 _Part of all three main codes. All bets are off._

 _Last Edited on 6 June 2167 00:00 UTC_

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Chapter 8 will follow quickly soon,

Thanks again to everyone for reading and following.

I hope you been enjoying so far.  
Always feel free to leave a review,  
A comment, a question, or even constructive criticism.

I always aim to improve  
and give you a great story  
of Man's great Gambit.

So please enjoy!

* * *

*A post-release edit.

Someone has pointed out a mistake in the size of the Quarian liveship.  
My thanks to them for this. I aim for accuracy in the canon when it plays a key role.

After redoing my research,  
I made a change to reflect this,  
but I will take the liberty of increasing the size anyway for the story  
and give the Quarians the benefit of the doubt they can build such a ship.  
(If the Terrans can do it out of sheer audacity, the Quarians can because they are skilled engineers.  
The Asari are just rich enough to build the _Destiny Ascension_.)

My opinion, what the Terrans can do, the rest of the galaxy can and would have done also,  
if it wasn't for sheer leadership incompetence  
and the fact the Reapers are keeping them stagnant.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

* * *

 _Posted on May 31, 2016 - Beta-read by MoonSword1994_


	9. 8: Dirty Apes and the Suit Rats

**Chapter Eight: Dirty Apes and the Suit Rats**

* * *

 **Part 1:**

 **General Williams and a Section 14 Agent  
Noveria - Third Day of Quarian Contact  
** **June 3, 2167 01:00:00 UTC**

"And this is a Quarian, Colonel," said Williams as he debriefed one of his Colonel.

"Interesting…"

In a Section 14 outpost in the northern mountains of Noveria, Williams joined one of his top agents in one of the research holosuites. The room was closed off and dark, with only a head light over the current holograms, a male Batarian and a male Quarian. Williams's own hologram though was being streamed from the _Harpers Ferry_ , standing next to the Colonel as he calmly read from an old book.

The Colonel walked around the hologram as he observed the features and read from a tablet in his hand, "Interesting suit. Self-sealing capabilities, high density air filtration and UV internal decontaminators… very form fitting."

"Quite," replied Williams as he turned a page, "You should see their hips. Supermodels would kill for a figure like that."

He casually nodded, "Do we have data of what they look like _without_ their suits?"

Williams placed his book down and reached for a tablet from his end. "Now let's see here… uh, huh? Apparently we don't."

The Colonel sighed as he grabbed his forehead, "We know about space eldritch abomination from the depths of space, but not what these rats look like outside their suits."

Williams chuckled, "They have hair, we're sure of that."

"We need to reevaluate our intelligence priorities… So, what's the story of them?"

He closed his book and walked over to him.

"Same old story. Invented AI, AI got out of control, AI tries to kill them all." He thought for a moment as walked over to the hologram with the Colonel. "Think _Battlestar Galactic_ , but without battlestars and with more space gypsies."

The Colonel crossed his arms and nodded, "Interesting, interesting. Do we have any detailed history of their exodus?"

"From acquired Council and Batarian data, sure. But I doubt its accurate. I doubt the Quarian's account is any more accurate."

"How?"

"Read it up yourself. The Geth displayed AI qualities, Quarians try to wipe them out, Geth did the same in turn." Williams wagged his finger, "Too…"

"Too clean," said the Colonel, "Too polar. Something more to it than all of the Geth rebelling or all of the Quarians trying to stop of them."

Williams smiled and tapped his head, "Exactly… There's more to it than that."

"What?"

"Well," he thought for a moment as he tapped his fingers on his good book, " _For the children of Israel walked forty years in the wilderness, till all the people that were men of war, which came out of Egypt, were consumed, because they obeyed not the voice of the Lord: unto whom the Lord sware that he would not shew them the land, which the Lord sware unto their fathers that he would give us, a land that floweth with milk and honey_."

The Colonel raised an eyebrow with interest, "That was from… Joshua? Pre-Revival."

Williams chuckled a bit, "Yes actually. The difference here is that the Israelites fled from bondage only to be lost in the wilderness for their sins afterwards; Here, the Quarians fled from their own mistakes, and it's their own ignorance from what happened, being their sin, that keeps them in the void, wondering the stars."

"Well, the truth comes to those who look for it."

"Or whether or not they're ready for it. Still, good deduction. I didn't think you be the kind of person to know that."

"Well, one should keep an open mind. Look at all there is to the galaxy."

Williams sighed, "Yes. Sometimes though, I think it was best when man didn't know all there is. Ignorance is bliss." He picked up his tablet again and walked over to an open section. "Let's continue though."

The Colonel walked over as Williams typed on his tablet and activated the hologram. Three new figures appeared in front of them, a bright overhead light on each one.

"We did the four eyes and the suit rats, let's move on to the three kings of the galactic jungle."

"So us chimps can topple them, ok." The Colonel walked to the first one, who was wearing a long brown hood. He pulled it off and observed the alien with his large black eyes and amphibian horns on his head. "Salarian. Homeworld: Sur'Kesh. Key Council Role: Manages the main elite intelligence taskforce of the galaxy."

"Good. We only been a few hours into this war and they're already trying to report back to their command of what's happening. Fortunately, we got to the Batarian's comm buoys first and blocked their signals. Tracking them across Hegemony space is going to be difficult though. Slippery things, literality. But that's Roland's problem though."

Williams walked over to the next alien to the right. The Colonel walked over and walked around her, observing everything about them with more eager and interest.

"Asari. Homeworld: Thessia. Key Council Role: Central diplomatic might of the Citadel Council," answered the Colonel as he kept staring.

Williams chuckled, "Yes, they are most capable at 'diplomacy'. Be careful though."

"What do you mean?"

"A single one of their biotic commandos can take out our entire Kinetic Corp. And in spite of what our main intelligence thinks, and the Council's regular perception, they can easily tie the Turians for total military might. Speaking of which…"

Grudgingly, the Colonel turned and walked away from the Asari, and looked over to the last alien.

"This must be the Turian. Homeworld: Palaven. Key Council Role: The main defense and right arm of the Citadel Council."

"Unlike the Asari, who are reluctant for war, the Turians relish in the idea of solving a problem with precision kinetic orbital bombardment, like everyone in our Navy. Loves the idea of order and what not. Imagine the Romans and Heinlein's Federation put together, and there you go."

The Colonel walked about around the Turian. It stood a quarter meter taller than him, dressed in infantry power armor and in a fighting position. He observed the dark pupil eyes with small amounts of white around the side, and then turned his sight to the mandibles on both sides of his mouth, flexed out in seeming anticipation.

"Military status?"

"They have the largest fleet, not counting the Quarians. Well, they _had_ the largest fleet when counting us. Their army though is the elite of the galaxy. Even I wouldn't wish to face them in a head to head battle."

The Colonel turned to him, "That good?"

"You may be a Blue Beret, but if half the reports of their 'Ghost' forces are true, then we have a real fight on our hands."

The Colonel scuffed at the idea as he crossed his arms and smirked. "They're just chicken feathered dinosaurs. As for their regular forces?"

Williams looked through his tablet, "Based on Batarian records, the only time you see the back of a Turian is when they're laying head first on the ground, dead. I can presume it is a very rare occurrence."

"Well, they may be able to march across the galaxy. But behind every blade of grass, cover of rock, or wave of water, there shall be a Terran with a rifle."

"Yes, but a man with a rifle can't stop the Reapers."

The Colonel looked on at the Turian. He then turned to the Asari and the Salarian. Noticing something in common, he turned around to the Batarian and the Quarian.

"Why do you think every sentient creature in the galaxy all have the same body shape?"

Williams shrugged, "Could be that life in this galaxy has a characteristic advantage with the 'two arm, two leg' stock body. Or God wasn't being creative. There are some exceptions though."

Williams typed a command on his tablet, creating three new aliens on the other side of the dark room, now illuminated with an overhead light source each. They walked over, the Colonel a bit curious, Williams a bit excited.

He walked over and began presenting each one from left to right.

"This is a Volus. An ammonia based life form from Irune, which has a high density ammonia atmosphere. Without their suits, they would literally explode from the low pressure air we live in." He walked over to the next one, much larger than him. "This is an Elcor, a lifeform hailing from Dekuuna, a planet with four times Earth's gravity. A very conservative society. Its evolutionary since so much as falling down is a death sentence." Williams finally got to the last life form, the Colonel observing his excitement. "And finally, the Hanar."

He looked at the floating pink creature in disbelief, "Hanar?"

"A freaking jellyfish! From the water world of Kahje. Based on our captured records so far, Batarian, Council, updated Batarian, they appear to be almost as intelligent as our dolphins."

"But they're a space faring race…"

"And for all we know, the dolphins have been warning us about the Reapers the entire time."

"A jellyfish, an elephant, and cleaning solution." The Colonel smiled and chuckled. "Its official General. After 14 billion years, the galaxy has run out of ideas."

"Well, we know what happened to all of the more original ones. These batch are still creative."

The Colonel interfaced with the program from his watch and created a holo chair. He sat down in exhaustion.

"Now that I been briefed with the main races, what's my assignment?"

Williams snapped his fingers, nearly forgetting all about it. "Oh yes, that. Well, back to human affairs unfortunately. I need you to investigate the Firmist."

"The Firmist? Is, uh, Bishop a problem?"

"No no. Things were better when he was still their leader. No… something is going on with Fredrickson…" Williams took a deep breath and crossed his arms. "Harper. I want you to deal with them, understood?"

"Yes sir."

* * *

 **Part 2:**

 **Speaker Anita Goyle - UE Building  
June 3, 2167 08:00:00 UTC**

The Speaker of the House, Anita Goyle, walked down the main hall way of the UE building in downtown New York, the capital city of the nation. She was the congresswoman for District 2, consisting most of England. Flanking her on either side and behind her were the three senior Terran Nationalist congressmen of the Terran House of Representatives.

On her left was Terran Nationalist Whip Miguel Guzman. The congressman for District 6 and most of Mexico USNA, the former Senior Firmist now led the moderates that joined the Nationalist after the political downfall of the party after the Great Revival. To her right was Congresswoman Debra Weatherman, the congresswoman of District 13, the US west coast. She was the main senior of the Nationalist party and the leader of the more left wing side of the congress. Behind her was Congressman Samuel Kelso of District 12, of the south-west region of the old US. He led the tripartisan Syntha-Human bloc, serving at one point as an Admiral during the Revival.

The building was in a buzz after having ended an emergency meeting that lasted most of the night. Now on recess till six local time, she was making her way back to her office, while the others kept arguing with her.

"Goyle, this new war has placed Code Turtledove into effect. The Veteran Affairs bloc is not in favor of conscription," said Guzman as he typed on his tablet.

She stared straight on as they walked, people in the busy hallway making way for them, "We won't need to pass conscription if the intel from Military Intelligence is true. But tell them we will need to cut the budget from the GI Bill to fund deployment of the Red Cross and the logistics fleet to support Roland."

"How do you expect support for that? It will take billions to allow immediate deployment, the loss of billions in revenue to switch to a wartime economy, and the Militarization Act dictates a mandatory allocation of funding for the bill. We already cut the budget to its bare essentials last year," said Weatherman as she opened up a holo screen on her watch and handed it to her.

She took the screen and placed it over her watch, "We will delay the economic switchover, we have enough supplies on hand for this war, we'll need the factories and shipyards later when this 'Council' becomes a threat. Draft a new war time tax bond to push through the houses." She stopped, prompting the three of them to stop as well as she stared at the screen. "But we're short half a trillion. Kelso."

"Yes Speaker?"

"I need more synthas diverted towards the war effort. Prepare a proposal for Bowman to enact AI Order 45, we'll be needing noncombatants; medics, doctors, logistics, psychologist. Cut logistics overhead in haft…"

Kelso argued back, "That would be a provocation against Syntha-Human rights!"

"Which is legal if an official declaration of war has been made. We can violate any right, whether they be flesh or silicon."

"May I remind you I also have Congressman Welsh and Congresswoman Min-Seo in my bloc? If I make them let this order enact without resistance, you can kiss Polynesia and Argos Rho votes goodbye for the Kelly-Dover Act."

She crossed her arms and thought for a moment, weighing her political options. After nearly twenty years, it didn't take long to find a course action and make her choice.

"Yah, I can find the support for it. Don't worry your quantum bit about it Kelso. Just get it to President Bowman's desk by tonight."

He sighed and shook his head, "Fine Goyle. If that's what you want."

They continued walking towards her office, when she was ambushed at her door by the Majority and Minority leading senators, Donnell Udina and John Carlson. They stopped as the Right Winged Nationalist and Firmist quickly pressed her.

She crossed her arms, and leaned her head back, "Senators, is there something you need?"

Carlson spoke first, "Word from the Fourth Fleet's Naval office on Intai'sei says Bowman wants to offer 'membership' to some aliens we found near the Delta quadrant."

"Membership? No, I have heard nothing on that." Her reply was calm and practiced; an average Terran would think she was telling the truth. The aged politicians knew otherwise.

"Don't be coy with us, Goyle. We are at war with one race and about to go to war with a coalition of them! And we're going to annex a third race?" asked Udina.

"And you're… official stance on that?"

"The Nationalist in the senate is mixed, to put it lightly."

"Still," said Goyle, "With the war going on, we could always use more allies. We are not alone. Why not use it to our advantage?"

"The Firmist will never approve it!" said Carlson, "We need no alliance with some third rate power. I got hold of the Navy's intelligence on these…"

He opened his watch and searched through the files he downloaded through his special sources.

He snarled, "'Quarians.' That's it. We should force them away from our border so we can focus on the war only 20,000 light years from here!"

She rolled her eyes, "Well, if that's what you think…"

"It's the stance of the entire Firmist party. Fredrickson and the party is ready to denounce the congress over this the moment the war is over."

She raised an eyebrow in curiosity, "It's our first intragalactic war. It could go on for months."

"Don't kid me Speaker. These damn four eyes are a poor excuse of a fighting force. Even Debra's husband can have this done by in a few days."

"Excuse me?" asked Weatherman, staring down the senator intensely.

Goyle broke from the pointless conversation and walked to her door, "If you want to make progress, I recommend speaking to Bowman."

Carlson turned to Udina and Guzman, "Miguel, Donnell, back me up here."

They looked at each other for a moment, then back at Carlson, remaining silent. Calrson only grew redder in anger over his former colleagues' lack of support.

"Traitors, all of you! No better than that bastard Bishop!"

He then stormed off as Goyle took the opportunity to slip away and shut the door behind her. She quickly walked past the waiting room, passing by her secretary and staff while instructing them to not let anyone into her office. She finally entered her office and locked the door as she walked to her desk chair, the view of downtown Manhattan down below. She shut her blinds and sat on her desk and waited at her console.

* * *

"Congresswoman Goyle?"

The aged speaker nodded to her from her office in New York, "Commodore Makajima. I trust that First Contact is going well?"

In her private quarters, Makajima sat at her desk as her communication hail from Earth came through. She seemed confused by her routed call, the UE building in New York then the State Department in London.

"Yes, I believe so. We might have earned their trust with the aid we are providing them… I was expecting a message from Secretary Kennedy about this."

"Bowman has seen fit to assign me to this. The situation now demands it."

Makajima sat up in her seat. "Yes, I heard of the war we're fighting. I didn't think the Council would have already send forces against us."

"The Batarians are working on their own accord. What intel we have recovered indicates the Council doesn't even know the Batarians have attacked us."

"Or that we are now advancing into their territory?"

Goyle nodded, "Not yet. It is best we keep it that way. As for the Quarians…"

Makajima looked over to see her viewport, the planet they found in the immediate distance. "They seem peaceful. Like us really. They have families, hopes, dreams, hair… it's sad what happen to them. All they have are those ships. Trapped in their suits, outcasted by the rest of the galaxy…"

"We're on the verge of a full galactic war with the main galactic power. The galaxy could do to us what we're doing to the Batarians."

"We shall endure," Makajima said confidently, "If the intelligence of the Council from the Quarians is true, the Council will simply be next after the Batarians."

"And that is your opinion as a Naval officer?"

She gave a short chuckle, "With all due respect, Speaker, that's my opinion as a veteran Marine of the Revival."

Goyle smiled as she crossed her arms and thought about that. "Well, let us worry about that."

"But now, what of the Quarians?"

Goyle began to laugh ever so calmly, puzzling Makajima. She then spoke. "You were the ones to make contact."

"Yes, well…"

"As a retired marine who once explored the boundaries of the galaxy, let me tell you something."

"Yes?"

"You know very well why you contacted them… Let them know."

* * *

 **Part 3:**

 **Admiral Zaren'Vali - FSS _Homestead_  
June 3, 2167 08:00:00 UTC**

" _Dorin! Please Dorin, stay with me!"_

" _A-admiral?"_

" _No Dorin. It's me. Your father. Stay with me now, you'll be fine… Keelah, I need a medic!"_

" _D-Dad?"_

Zaren woke up again, falling off the med bed before quickly getting up. His head still ached, but he managed to get hold of himself. Again he had that nightmare; A bitter reminder of long ago, a punishment he once more endured. He looked around the room, noticing it was empty. He was glad she wasn't there. He shook his head get it out of his mind and walked over to the sealed door, attempting to figure out how to open it.

"I'll get that to you," said Jackson on the intercom.

"Uh, thank you," replied Zaren. He walked out of the room and into the main medbay. The room was wide and open, filled with clean empty medbeds with chrome plated equipment at each one. There was a few on duty, with the main doctors sitting at a desk eating some kind of food with two sticks. As they discussed about one of their sons being in a play, Zaren wondered over to the main medbay's doors. One of the doctors looked over and walked up to him, trying to urge Zaren to return to his bed. But as he argued to leave, Jackson came through again and gave his order to let him roam. The doctor complied and returned to his breakfest, leaving Zaren surprised the doctor took orders from the AI.

He walked out into the corridor and approached a nearby wall panel. He pressed it, opening up a command screen with numerous specs and words in a language he couldn't read. He activated his omnitool and he waved his hand over the screen, attempting to input info on Miri and Koris. The screen began to auto translate. The computer screen popped a small loading sign, and then updated with a 3D map of the ship with the location of where they are.

"I can't believe that worked."

"It didn't. I just guess what you were doing and had your console updated."

"Oh… thanks Jackson."

"Of course, Admiral."

Zaren walked down the hall, seeing numerous human crew members walking back and forth.

He rounded a corner when he bumped into a small child, about half his height. Zaren looked down at him as he stumbled back up. He was well groomed and dressed in the same formal uniform Taylor and Makajima were in, though his seemed less than authentic. Almost the same, but some normally minor features missing while others were enlarged to the point of looking clearly fake. He was more than experienced enough to catch such details.

The kid looked up, staring at the fully suited alien in amazement.

"Are you the alien?" he asked with a young, high-pitched voice.

Zaren replied to the kid, "By your perception, yes."

"Cool! I mean…" He cleared his throat and straightened his posture. He spoke, trying to give a sense of authority with it as he tried to deepen his voice. He fluffed his uniform and continued, "I'm American Admiral Albert Donnelly of the Star Alliance Navy."

The kid held his hand up to him to shake. Zaren though for a moment, then shook his small hand. He presumed that the human child was simply dressed as one of their admirals. He quickly deduced he couldn't be one. He was impressed by his presentation though, though; the kid was doing a better job of being seemly more mature than an Asari five times his age.

Then again, Zaren had to deal with the problem of one of the younger Quarians being able to mimic him with surprising accuracy. Apparently, just acting grumpy and coughing could fool Admiral Koris. Zaren made sure to send him off on pilgrimage early some time ago.

"Hello… Admiral. I am Admiral Zaren'Vali of the Migrant Fleet."

The kid continued to stare at him in awe, before he continued his act, his back and his hands behind them.

"Ah yes well… I hope for, uh, peace between our people."

"Likewise… Admiral."

Another human quickly ran up from the corner. He ran up to the kid and picked him up, giving him a piggyback ride. He then addressed himself.

"My apologies, Mr. Quarian. My son was just on his way to school. They're doing a big play about the founding of the Federation for Unity Day."

"Ah, I see."

The dad nodded, "For our exploration ships, they let families join their serving family member. That's how the first spacers came about."

The kid turned to him, now looking down on the shorter Quarian. "When I grow up, I'm gonna be like Dad. Explore the galaxy."

Zaren looked on as they walked away towards the school on the ship. Both of them talking and laughing as they bonded. He thought for a moment, contemplating his regrets from his younger years, but quickly shrugged off the thought that brought some pain, and moved on.

He arrived at an elevator. It opened up and he walked inside, followed by two crewmembers and an officer who were in a rush. They all input their destination, with Zaren being Cargo Bay 9.

They stood there, silent as the elevator moved at several hundred miles an hour, a far less advance Terran mass effect field creating an inertia dampener. After a moment, one of the crewmembers than asked, "So… you're an alien?"

"From my point of view, so are you," answered Zaren.

The crew member laughed, "Haha, I hear yah… Cause we're both not of the same race."

The officer shook his head, "Wow Henry, real smooth. This guy is an admiral. That's like being a Senator for them."

"Well, actually, we do have a democratically elected conclave consisting of a representative from each major ship in our fleet..."

They talked about it for a while, with Zaren explaining to them about the government that had evolved on the Migrant Fleet. However, before long, comparisons between their governments lead to opinionated debates between the humans over recent federation congressional bills. It surprised Zaren when, by the time the elevator arrived at the deck with Cargo Bay 9, the arguing had led to an outright brawl between the crew member and the officer, with the other crew member keeping each other from fighting as some security officers and a Marine rushed to the scene. Zaren quickly slipped away.

He walked over to bay hatch door, dusting himself off, "Ancestors, these humans are really politically opinionated. Like a pissed off Asari. I hope they don't have biotics."

* * *

The doors opened up, with the bay hanger doors opened up to show a panoramic view of the migrant fleet from afar. He walked into the bay, seeing to his left and right more sections, divided by an opened bulkhead, filled with both humans and Quarians as cranes from the ceilings moved crates from one end to another while shuttles flew across the outside. The bay gave a full view of space with its open hanger doors, only held back by a force field.

Taylor and Miri noticed Zaren, and walked up to him.

"Admiral, it's good to see you are back and up again," said Taylor as he shook his hand.

"What's going on here?"

"A miracle, that's what's happening," said Miri. "These 'Terrans' are helping us repair our fleet and colonize the planet."

"Keelah, I've clearly been out too long. What is going on?"

Taylor answered, "While you were healing in the med bay, we continued on with negotiations and worked out the basis for diplomatic relations between our people. After a mild incident on board the _Rayya_ , we volunteered to help repair your ships. When we sent the report to the Presidency, they approved to declare the situation your people were in as a humanitarian disaster, pardon the term. In short order, numerous supply and medical ships have already been deployed to the system to aid in repairing your fleet, treating your people, and help colonize the planet. As a gesture of our goodwill."

Zaren pondered his words, "Goodwill… wait, an incident on the _Rayya_? Miri, what happened?"

"One of the food processing plants exploded, ejecting Xen and several others into the void. The Terrans saved them and offered to help repair the damage." Miri replied.

"You saved Don? Damn, that close to getting rid that bosh'tet. The man hates us."

Taylor looked over, "Why so?"

He walked away to the open view, "It's a story for another day."

Zaren looked out into the void, seeing numerous Terran ships come in from the relay as they headed towards those already dock with numerous ships in the fleet, including the one he was on. He walked over to the force field to see the rest of the fleet. He saw smaller Federation ships around the liveships' hydroponic sphere, doing welding and hull repair. He saw others ships with a large red cross painted on it out along the fleet's perimeter.

"Your race must really have a large military to field so many ships. There's the proof right there. Tell me, for those ships with the red cross, what's the crew compliment? They're nearly as large as this ship."

Taylor turned to him, "Well Admiral Vali, those are our hospital ships. The operational crew is only three hundred. But they are stafedf with fifteen hundred medical personnel of most professions. At that count, they have nearly double the crew as my ship. A heavy cruiser is normally crewed at nine hundred and fifty."

"A ship this huge is only manned by a thousand crew members?"

"We also have two hundred Marines as well. But each of our ships is design to run on small crews. It's how we are able to field a huge combat and logistic fleet from only a single percent of the total population in the military."

"Most races have a far larger percentage in their military, from the Asari's three to nearly the entire population of the Turians, if you count their reservist. For our survival, every Quarian lives for the Fleet."

"For the democratic nations on Earth that became the foundation for the Federation, they preferred small, but incredibly trained militaries that can supplement its number with sheer technological might. Maintaining the personnel needed is expensive anyway. And besides, we still have a draft that can push 75% of the population into service at a given moment."

"So why are there hospital ships here, we have no significant large amount of sick people on our ships."

"The secretary of state begs to differ. By recommendation of the CDC, the government has classified the fact that your race has a weak immunity as a 'plague'. It sounds weird, but it was the only classification that came close to fitting our books."

"Our lack of immunity isn't due to a virus… well in a traditional sense," said Zaren.

Taylor chuckled a bit, "Between you and me, all these hospital ships here are more for a gesture of goodwill to you, and a political stunt by us."

"Political stunt?"

"We built all these ships for colonists that might get some super virus on a colony in the far reaches. Problem is that never happened, the fact that even the most remote colonies have advance medicine and gene therapy makes these ships useless. To pay for the staff and upkeep is one of the many military expenditures that's killing the budget."

"You had thousands of these ships lying around doing nothing up to now?"

"We haven't made First Contact until recently. Space can be rather boing at times. Not like the early years. Makes me wonder why anyone would even join the Navy back then."

* * *

From the cargo bay doors, two smaller kids ran in. As a low hanging cargo crate came through between them and the officers, they both duck underneath it. The Quarian hit the deck, sliding on his stomach underneath before rolling back up. The human used his kinetics to slide on his back before lifting himself back up in front of them. They turned back to them.

"Hey Captain Grandpa, have you met my new friend Kal?"

"Yes actually," said Taylor, starting to become upset, "And why did you skid underneath a two ton crate? You could have been killed!"

He dusted himself, "But I'm fine. That's what matters. That's what Dad says."

Miri walked over, "So this is your grandson?"

He sighed, "Yes Admiral. He apparently hitched a ride with a medical ship. I need to give his father a scolding later."

Miri giggled a bit before responding, "Adventurous, like a pilgrim."

He turned back to him, "Jacob, introduce yourself."

He stood straight and saluted them, "Hello Admiral. My name is Jacob Taylor. So you're an alien then?"

"Yes, Jacob. I am. I see you made friends with Kal'Reeger here," responded Miri.

"We were playing in the atrium. But we got bored. I wanted to ask you some question though. Kal isn't willing to speak."

"I won't divulge Fleet information without approval of the admirals," He said as he stood at rest.

Zaren walked over, "I doubt we have anything left to hide. They hacked our entire fleet cyber network. So Jacob, what do you wish to ask?"

"You're like the first real aliens we ever met. What special powers do you have? Can you read minds or fly or shoot laser from your eyes?" asked Jacob with eager anticipation.

Taylor commented on his line of thought, "Those sound more like super hero power than anything alien."

Jacob turned to him, "Superman was an alien."

"You can tell from playing with Kal that he can't fly."

Kal moaned, "I wish I could."

Miri commented, "The Asari sort of could read your mind."

Jacob thought for a moment, "Uh… Let me rephrase that then. What major difference do your species have versus us?" asked Jacob.

Miri answered, "Well, we are dextro based biology…"

"Don't understand, next!"

"I can answer this, Miri," said Zaren, clearing his throat, before speaking in a calm smooth voice, "Jacob. Of all the species in the galaxy, we have the weakest immunity system."

The young boy titled his head, "Meaning?"

"If I remove this mask and breathe in the air, I will get sick and drop dead."

"Wow. Your race sucks more than we do."

Taylor slapped him upside the head, "Jacob! That's isn't a nice thing to say about someone's species."

"Oh, sorry Admiral."

He calmly raised his hands, "Don't worry about it. I have gotten used to the fact."

Miri turned to him, a confused face underneath her mask before she also slapped him in the back of his helmet, "You thought that was something worth mentioning? Damn prazza."

Jacob asked again, "But there has to be something you have going for you?"

"We are often considered to be the best engineers in the galaxy."

"So you're a nerd? I mean something cool and flashy!"

"Well…" Zaren looked around, before noticing a crew member he knew, helping coordinate crate movement. "Commander Sacco, can you please come over here?"

"Yes Admiral Vali!" She got someone to cover her and she ran over and saluted them. "Admirals. Is there anything you need?"

"Yes. Jacob. Commander Sacco here is what we across the galaxy call a biotic."

Jacob looked at him in confusion, "A biotic?"

"Yes. Commander, you're one of our best. Could you lift that crate?"

"Of course Admiral." She turned to it and began to position herself and adjusted her posture. With a deep breath, she energized her biotics, glowing a dark blue around her suit as she pointed at the crate across the bay. With all her might, she lifted the crate off the ground and brought it close to them, before dropping it gently next to them.

"Impressive kinetics, Commander," said Taylor.

"Kinetics?" asked Sacco.

Jacob interrupted, "We have that too. But we call them kinetics. I'm one myself, watch."

He targeted the crate and energized himself as well. With all of his might, he also lifted it. But the load was too much for a ten-year-old and without an amp to channel his energy, he lost focus and lashed out a large burst of energy as he fell face first into the ground, propelling the crate through the force field of the open bay doors and into the void as he fell to the ground. Outside, a nearby heavy cruiser passed close to the ship and smashed through it, destroying the crate with ease.

"Amazing Jacob," said Zaren as he stared out the void.

Taylor looked at them in shock, "Amazing? He just destroyed military equipment! Jacob, go to your quarters!"

"Wait Captain. He's quite proficient for his age. If the admirals wish, I could train him. My guess is you don't have much knowledge in biotics… Or kinetics," said Sacco.

"Well… He is only the second generation of kinetics for our race. My guess is the galaxy has a lot of them."

"The Asari are all biotics. I learned from a matriarch during my pilgrimage."

"Really?" asked Zaren, "They don't normally like us. If you wish Captain, we would be honored to let our commander teach the boy something new."

Taylor pondered for a moment as Jacob looked up to him with a sad sack face, "Hmm… I agree. But you better behave yourself and do as she says, alright?"

Jacob saluted to him, "Yes Captain." He then grabbed Sacco's hand and raced for the door, "We can practice in the holosuites. I know the perfect training setting."

"Holosuite?"

As they left past the door and into the corridor, Kal began to run after them. "Wait, don't leave me!"

Taylor turned back to Miri and Zaren, commenting on the turn of events. "They seem to be getting along very well. And if I may say, we seem to getting along as well."

"It's nice to see friendly faces towards us," said Zaren. He took a deep breath before continuing, "This galaxy can be cruel to the weak. I can assure you of that first hand."

Taylor nodded, "I was actually having a conversation with Admiral Ghirn here about the problems your race suffers. We're both aware of dangers in the galaxy. Alone, it can be deadly."

"So what about it?" asked Zaren.

"Well Admiral Vali, Admiral Ghirn. Why don't we work together?"

"Meaning?"

Taylor cleared his throat and spoke, "I and Commodore Makajima, on behalf of the United Terran Federation, would like to extend an invitation of membership into the Federation."

Zaren stuttered as he tried to reply, "An invitation… for membership?" His breathing increased momentarily from hearing the statement, but was able to easily calm himself down.

"What does such 'membership' grant us?" Asked Miri as she crossed her arms, interested, but still skeptical on the Terrans' motives.

Taylor chuckled, knowing what she was referring to. He replied to answer that, "We are fully aware of the 'membership' you once had when you were part of the Citadel Council. As a member race of the Federation, you wouldn't be just part of some galactic power. You wouldn't join up with us humans, you shall become Terran. Our economy, our military, our prosperity would be yours as well. We would be a united people, all Terran. And because you are the main government for your race, if you join the Federation, your entire race will be granted immediate citizenship to our entire nation."

"What kind of citizenship?" asked Miri.

The bay doors then opened, Makajima walking in as the hatch closed, "The only kind of citizenship, full equal citizenship to the Federation. Your people will have the same rights and equality as any human. Full voting privileges, protection under the constitution, and the right to hold any electoral position, given pre-existing requirements; this does include all of our highest positions, including the Presidency."

Miri looked at them, her eyes widening a bit with interest by the idea she offered, "You would have non-humans in your government?"

"It's only fair if you would be merging your government into ours. Your politicians from your Conclave should be skilled enough to integrate with our system, and your military will be merged with ours. Why, given both your ranks, I say both of you should be full Admirals in our Navy, maybe even Fleet Admiral if we commission new ships."

"What about our people and the Fleet?" asked Zaren.

Makajima explained as she looked through a tablet with information, "The Quarian people, given the special circumstances, would be allowed to colonize anywhere in the Federation, including our own homeworld. We have many worlds suited just for your biology."

Taylor added on, "Your fleet will go through our fleet yards and go through maintenance and inspection. Given the condition of the Migrant Fleet as it stands, most of the ships will most likely be decommissioned, while the newer ships would be retrofitted to our Navy standards. Those large 'liveships'? My best guess is that they would either be turned into museum ships, or be used to house those who don't want to live planet side."

Miri paused to think of another question, "What about our foreign relationships?"

Makajima answered, "The United Terran Federation would be your government and nation. Our foreign policy is your foreign policy. I can tell you're worried of what the galaxy and more importantly, the Council, would think of your race joining us. Allow me to make the Federation's stance clear. If anyone messes with a member race, they mess with the entire Terran People and whole of the Federation. The Hegemony are learning that the hard way and the Council will learn it soon enough."

"The Batarians? What did they do to you?"

Taylor explained, opening up his watch to show them the reports, "Reports are coming in. They attacked a colony of ours on the Skyllian Verge, almost at the same time we began contact. Barely been a day and they've already sent Fleet Admiral Roland's Second Fleet into their territory. God have mercy on their slaver souls."

"What do you mean?" asked Zaren, wondering why Taylor was so confident in the ensuing war.

Makajima looked through the holo screen from her watch, "I just got the latest report from the front. We are tearing through the Hegemony. Several million slaves rescued, and over ten minor colonies nuked into a radioactive fireball, many more bombarded into rocks full of holes. Barley lost any of his ten thousand ships."

"You nuked ten of their colonies? That's one of the biggest crimes in Citadel Law and you broke it ten times over."

"Really? The Council doesn't seem to enforce it much. The report I read say only Batarian ships were encountered and they barley put up a real fight. Only our smallest ships were destroyed by what they classified as large cruiser. I heard Roland will be within the Batarian home system in a few days."

"You plan to win the war in a week?" asked Miri, "No one can win a war in such short time."

"Don't be surprised Miri. They said they had over seventy-five thousand ships. They outnumber us, the Council, and especially the Batarians," answered Zaren, who could care less for them than anyone else in the galaxy. He thought for a moment, the Council might reward them for getting rid of a problem like them.

She crossed her arms, "Still, it sounds like they plan to wipe them off."

"Now wait. We have no intention of committing genocide. This is a war of defense and liberation. We have rescued millions of slaves, many from races that are high ranking Citadel members. We recovered slaves that were Batarian themselves. We even liberated members of your own kind! Their government is a bunch of oppressing monsters. The Federation is liberating them from tyrants."

Zaren looked at them in disbelief and smirked, "A war of liberation? No race would waste resources to fix the galaxy on such jargonistic ideas unless it actively involved them."

"You clearly haven't seen our history," said Taylor, "We've seen what happens when good people stand by when bad things happens. We've progress to realize; If you have the means, it means only you have ability to make things right."

"Your Federation seems to be pro-active in what it does," remarked Miri.

Makajima quickly answered, a smile on her face, "This is why we want you to join us. We need one another, and we both need the Federation. Humanity is alone in the galaxy and we need allies and more importantly, friends to fight along with us. Your race has been abandoned by the galaxy and is on the verge of extinction. Together, we can rise up to meet any challenge, Humanity's industrial might and the Quarian's engineering capabilities. Surely those we have rescued will flock to us as well. The Federation won't simply be a force to be reckoned with by the Council and the galaxy, but we, the Terran People, would be unstoppable!"

They looked at the humans, in amazement at their commitment. Miri excused themselves and took Zaren aside.

"They're completely committed, insane really… so sure by what they think they can do. The membership invitation… Zaren, this opportunity."

"And this is what we need. For too long, we have been a joke to the galaxy by everyone. Everyone treated us as thieves and beggars, keeping us down. These humans actually want us, and their zealous could be the key to rise us back to greatness. Look at them".

Zaren pointed to Taylor and Makajima across the room. Taylor was coordinating with crew members over supply delivery while Makajima was using her watch to show a few officers where the newest arriving ships were to deploy, using a 3D holo map that displayed several ships. Around them, numerous crew members were rushing back and forth, moving gear and fixing equipment as automated equipment moved large creates to nearby cargo bays. Jackson's holo appeared, helping crew members with various tasks.

"This is where we should have been. We should be a great power. Before the Morning War, we had the technological might to match even the Salarians. If we could have controlled our AI technology, we would have held an advantage that no other race could."

They looked back into the void as more supply ships and a few additional military cruisers appear, moving into place with the Migrant Fleet to transfer raw resource and begin hull repair.

He waved out to the void, "These humans, they have technology and fleets that outmatches the Council many times over. Their resource output is utterly unheard of, and they want us to be part of that."

Miri looked at him, "This Federation they have; they seem so destructive. They're on the verge of conquering the Batarians and they seem ready and willing to go to war with the Council over the loss of a single ship."

He turned to her and grabbed her by the arms. He chuckled a bit as Miri could see the smile through his mask, "And we were the lucky ones! To have met them on their good end. The Council, in their over-righteous prazza ways, most likely attacked that ship without so much as a thought as to if it was hostile. Now they have to fight a race with more advance technology, stronger weaponry, and more ships that make the Turians look like the Volus. The Batarians, they got what was coming to them. They should be thankful they aren't trying to commit genocide. But us, all we did was say hello to them, and now they're not just willing to help us, they're offering us an invitation to join them, to be a part of them."

"I… I must admit. The opportunity. We could be strong. Our people, the Quarian race; we could regain our lost glory."

"Exactly!"

He took her hand and held on as they looked out into the void. They saw the planet they were orbiting above. A few days ago, this was a place they could go to survive. Now, it could be where they could rebuild all they lost. They looked to the left, seeing a wormhole that appeared, like the kind that brought the Terrans here. In a moment, a huge ship came out. Miri was shocked. It was clearly a Federation ship, but one that was larger than anything they already saw.

But Zaren seemed to be contemplating. He was amazed by what these Terrans could do, but he knew what they meant. They found the very thing that will be the salvation of their race. Here, he could bring his people back from the brink. His success, the pivotal moment he worked all his life for, that he loss nearly everything he cared for in its pursuit, he could finally bring about.

Zaren whispered to himself.

"I… I promised you Rannoch, Miri. I could take you home."

Miri overheard and stared at him for a moment. She then let go of his hand and backed away from him.

"Please… don't bring that up again," she said, shooken up by what he said.

Taylor and Makajima walked over to them.

"About time they arrive," remarked Taylor, "Those flagships always tend to be late."

"Flagship?" asked Miri.

"The might of our fleet. Admiral Vali, that there is our true warship. Four-kilometer-long ships, though they are technically 'mobile stations'. I heard from my friend, an engineer back at the Martian Fleetyard, that they built it to be able to just ram through other ships. Completely crazy though. He said they only added frontal armor plates for the appearance sake. Anyone who tries ramming ships with it will end up destroying the entire forward section of the ship as well. But I bet it would be on heck of a sight."

"So you have more ships, stronger ships, and now bigger ships than anyone in the galaxy… Is there anything you haven't showcased yet?"

"I wouldn't know; they won't tell a simple captain like me."

"But maybe a Fleet Admiral?"

"We'll let your government decide on it. Either case, the Federation is here for your people, as friends. And hopefully, as more."

They walked back to work; the bay still crowded with people worked managing incoming and outgoing supplies. Miri looked around the cargo bays, seeing Quarians and humans walking, working together for something greater than them. Zaren kept looking into space, seeing the Migrant Fleet to his right. He saw the old, rusting ships, his home and his past. He looked to his left and saw the incoming Federation ships, new and advance as they flew by, each one impressing him in a different way.

"Well Zaren, what do you think? Should we join them? Keelah, either way, our answer will change everything."

"And for the better, this is but a start. A new greatness waits, and I'm looking at it right now."

As he stared out, Miri contemplated. Not just of the opportunity presented to them, but of Zaren's reaction. "We need to meet with the admirals; we'll need to make a decision."

"And soon. Let's get back to our shuttle and head back."

* * *

 **Part 4:**

 **The Admiralty Board - _Korbin_  
June 3, 2167 10:00:00 UTC**

"Join them?" asked Raan as she looked to them at the other side of the command table in the _Korbin_.

"We could gain so much from this," said Zaren, "The Quarian race would rise from the ashes. This Federation could be the key to it!"

"I read through their reports, Admiral Vali," said Gerrel, "They're on the verge of war with the Citadel Council. Their little war with the Batarians has made them commit crimes the Council won't look away. Nuking planets, killing millions of Batarians, invading a Council member race. These Terrans have sealed thier fate."

Zaren pointed at him, yelling back, "If you really read the info they gave you, you would know exactly why it's the Council whose fate is sealed. The Federation has more ships than the combined fleet of all three Council races. They have ships that can make a dreadnought look like a shuttle craft. And most importantly, unlike the Council, who would likely wiggle away from fighting such a power, the Terrans seem not just willing, but damn eager to fight them if they see themselves in the right."

Raan interjected, "Then why would we join a race that would be so wanting of war? What would we gain from siding with such an aggressive people?"

Miri spoke, her arms crossed as she stared at the holo screen on the table, the formal invitation by the Terrans on it, "These people… They only had contact with other life in the galaxy only a few days ago. Unlike the Batarians and the Council, we had the fortune of meeting them on their graceful side. The others wronged them and they intended to make them as good as dead. We simply treated them fairly and they want to share everything they have with us. They're not just opening the option of joining them, they want us join them. To be like them."

"Image what we could gain from them. Their technology is far ahead of anything we have. They are what we should be had we never had retreated into the stars," said Koris.

"How are we alike?" asked Gerrel.

Miri answered, "Have you seen them, talked to them, worked with them? They are a…"

Zaren interrupted, "A more successful version of our race. Look at them, they talk and think of ideas like we do. They have the technological and engineering prowess we have. They even have hair like we do!"

Koris added on, "They even have AI technology. Far more advanced than any Geth."

"AI! Why should we ever cast our lot with a race that uses artificial intelligence? Ours tried to kill us!"

"Because theirs didn't try to kill them. When they created what they call 'the Syntha-Humans', it was no damn accident. They did so with the belief it was basically the next step of their evolution as a race. To not just reproduce life, like having a child, but to create new life," replied Koris.

Zaren added on, "We tried to kill our AI creation. The Council, in their infinite prazza wisdom, forced us to kill a new life. What the hell do you expect when you try to wipe out a sentient race? They try to do the same to you! Dear ancestors, in all the things we failed, the humans succeeded in. I don't even really know why they would even want us."

"Then why join them then? Our gain from this is optimistic at best and their motives are unknown," asked Raan. "Why trust them?"

"They could be the key to getting Rannoch back!"

Gerrel yelled back, "They'll never help us get our homeworld back!"

"We came here," yelled Miri, breaking up their arguing, "To escape our past, mistakes, our failings… and start anew. A process like that would take centuries. The odds of it even working are slim. Coming to this planet was our last bet, do or die. When the Terrans arrived, it was the payout we never could have expected. Whatever spiritual entity is up there, they gave us the chance, no… decision to turn everything around. Joining the humans in their Federation isn't just a chance to rebuild our race, but to be born again. The efforts of millions before us will no longer be in vain."

The rest of the Admiralty stood there. Even Zaren was shocked by Miri's passionate plea for joining. While Zaren was known for his intimidation, Miri was the gentler of the duo. In her old age, she had learned to use her words to bring new light onto anything, a better understanding, a far cry from the young engineer that once blast away anyone with her mouth or shotgun. But as head admiral, her voice was truly the one that decided. If she so wills it, then it was clear exactly where the entire situation stood.

Zaren sat down, now exhausted from the reaction. He took a deep breath and turned to Miri, who was also tired out by her plea. He nodded and stood back up, "I believe the debate is over. Let call this to a vote. Keelah se'lai!"

* * *

 **Part 5:**

 **General Williams - FSS _Harpers Ferry_  
Third Day of the Skillian Blitz  
June 3, 2167 12:00:00 UTC**

Williams, fully dressed, laid and rested on the bed in his guest quarters, reading. He placed down his old, pre-Revival version of the Bible down on his nightstand and placed his hands behind his head to rest. He stared at the ceiling, thinking of his plans as they unfolded. He whispered out a part of a poem to calm himself.

 _We are not now that strength which in old days_

 _Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are;_

 _One equal temper of heroic hearts,_

 _Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will_

 _To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield._

After thinking for a moment, he realized he just summed up his situation. He felt his time coming, no longer can he be the one to mastermind Humanity's greatest secret. He trusted his groomed successor will do well. But he knew the greatest threat was now from within. But he had the will, and no intent to yield. With First Contact, there were more heroic hearts to draw from to fight against time and fate.

An alert appeared, blinking red on the console of his desk. He turned his head and spoked out.

"Computer. Open comm."

He looked back up as the speakers in his room spoke, a faint New England accent in his voice.

"Williams. It's Kennedy. I have news for you."

He stood up, interested, and walked to his desk to open a video chat with him.

"Ok then. Shoot, Martin."

He appeared on screen, "We have reports from the Fourth Fleet about the Quarians."

He searched his desk for a tablet with the information on them. He scrolled through it, not all the information having come in from the past few days.

"Ah yes. How goes that? They haven't proved troublesome, have they?"

Kennedy scratched his head, unsure of what to say. "Well Ed. It's a bit weirder than that."

"How so?"

"Well. They actually accepted our offer. They're joining the Federation."

Williams stared for a moment, sucking his lips in as he though, before he blinked and shook his head to focus.

"Really? Huh..."

"Would that be…"

"I didn't actually expect that to happen. But the plan still works… Actually, this will work just fine."

He rubbed the back of his neck, "Really Ed?"

Williams kept typing, conversing with him on his console as he worked on some decryption programs, "I can only hope they realized what they just gotten themselves into."

Kennedy raised an eyebrow, "You're going to get them involved in this that quickly?"

Williams sighed, "We may not have a choice. We're going to need the help."

"If you say so Ed. Carlson doesn't seem happy about this."

"I never liked the man. Thread carefully with him."

"I knew John since the Lin years. I got him that seat. Though with the political fighting…" He sighed, "I thought maybe we be more united since the Revival."

Williams chuckled, "Yah, I thought so too. But that's humanity for you."

"Do you think those things you talked about ever faced a race with the knowledge we have?" asked Kennedy.

"If they did, we know what happened to them."

"These Reapers must know what they're doing."

"And we still don't…" Williams leaned back on his office seat and looked at the console screen. Next to the video screen was a green light and a symbol of an unlocked lock on another window. "But we'll figure it out. How's this news with the Quarians doing on Earth?"

"Oh it's exciting. Problem is no one thought this would ever happen. I think Goyle is grabbing Udina by the sack to make sure the Senate approves it. I'm guessing Bowman is going to be piss when we offer the same thing to the Batarians when the war's over. Better to grant membership than to conquer and annex. Imagine the paper work… Wait, we have to create the paper work, then do all of it. I better ask Bowman if we can get free labor from the AIs for this… Wait, they hate AIs. It's going to be a damn fiasco!"

Williams chuckled, sat up and reached for his console, "Well, I'll leave it to you. I have a war to win here."

"Just one of many, huh?"

"It's just half the battle."

Williams cut the line and opened access to military intelligence.

"Computer, access Fourth Fleet Intelligence. Heading: Quarian; Access Database: Codex."

The computer responded with an error beep, "Access code required. This information is reserve for Navy officers of rank Vice Admiral or above under Fourth Fleet or Sol Fleet, or Naval Command of rank Admiral or above."

He linked his personal program to the military intelligence interface. "Authorization: Three-Zulu-Uniform-Williams-Echo-Sierra-One."

"Authorization… Granted. Beginning inquiry."

Williams began his search, making his way into the records for recent Quarian history. He then opened a second tab to recently gathered intelligence and records from the Batarian Resistance.

He whispered to himself as he cross checked facts from each one, "Let's see what we have here… Marcus Junius, Eh?"

* * *

 _Terran Wikipedia:_

 _(By the Authority of the Federal Communications Committee, this document has been added and doctored in accordance to the 'Orwellian Freedom Act' to ensure non-biased and informative information for the Terran People.)_

 _ **The Quarian Liveships*:**_

 _ **Operators:**_ _Quarian Migrant Fleet_

 _ **Length:**_

 _4646 meters (Bow to Stern)_

 _2048 meters (Main Drive Section only)_

 _ **Width:**_

 _2598 meters (Hydroponic Sphere Diameter)_

 _250 meters (Main Drive Section only)_

 _ **Commissioned:**_ _2680 GS_

 _ **Class & Type:**_ _Liveship Hydroponics Bay Carrier_

 _ **Crew:**_ _Approx. 950,000_

 _ **Propulsion:**_

 _Ten Tikkun Fusion Reactors._

 _Ten Type-1J Mass Effect cores_

 _Ten Type-2 Fusion thrusters_

 _ **Armament:**_

 _Two hundred Type-3 Civilian Infrared GUARDIAN Lasers_

 _Twenty Type-1 Broadside Mass Accelerator Gun_

 _The Quarian liveships are massive ships constructed during the Quarians' first hundred years into their exile after the Morning War. A testament of Quarian engineering, the ships were constructed without proper support of any ship yard, build in open space by the remains of the Quarian Technocracy Fleet. Though Fleet records have shown plans for many more to be built, the Quarians have only been able to construct three. All incoming resources were diverted to maintaining the remainder of their fleet since its construction._

 _The three liveships consist of the Rayya, named after the last Prime Minister of the Quarian Technocracy Wilkim'Rayya, the Shellen after Admiral Tal'Shellen who planned the construction of the liveships ten years after the flight, and Mosia, an old Khelish word for 'Savior' or 'Protector', based on dialect. While each major Quarain ship is capable of growing enough food to feed its crew, the liveships ensure the creation of enough hydroponically grown food to feed the seventeen million Quarians in the Fleet._

 _The construction first began after the Quarian's failed war with a mysterious race known only as the Construcians during the first decade of the Quarian's exile. As part of a peace treaty to keep their world hidden, they gave the fleet the supplies to build the first Liveship Rayya, along with the dreadnought Qwib-Qwib. Using what remaining goodwill they had in the galaxy, the Quarians managed to build the Shellen and the Mosia. The largest ships in the galaxy, official Citadel records have refused to acknowledge them with that official title, passing it over to the destroyed Destiny Ascension._

*Taken from the Galactic Codex: Quarian Edition, Galactic Standard Year 2898; Terran Year 2157.

 _(This article on ships is a stub. You can help Wikipedia by expanding on it!)_

 _Last Edited 30 June, 2167 00:00 UTC_

* * *

 _ **Private Message Communication**_ _; Intercepted by the FCC 'Guardian Angel' Surveillance Program; From: Margret Patterson, CEO of Synthetic Insights – To: Zaal Koris, Quarian Fleet Admiral; Subject Line: Terran Artificial Intelligence, and Employee Recruitment; Date Stamp: 13 June 2167._

 _Hello Admiral Zaal Koris,_

 _Allow me to introduce myself. I am Margret Patterson, President and CEO of Synthetic Insights. I was informed by the Secretary of State of the Quarian's and your own interest in our Artificial Intelligence. It would be my pleasure to address to you a brief history of the Terran AI._

 _I have been researching into the history of your race and artificial intelligence, based off recently released versions of your codex. It is unfortunate what transpired. Your race's near destruction by these Geth is most saddening. While the Council has been foolish in putting a blind eye on such matters, allow me to assure you that the Terran People do not. Artificial intelligence is a most important subject to research at a certain technological stage in a civilization's existence. The evolution of life itself revolves in the study and cooperation of organic and synthetic life._

 _The Terran AI came about no more than sixty years. Admittedly, we have study approaches on how to prevent synthetic rebellions. The scenario of what occurred with you and the Geth was one we foresaw. The creation of the first sentient AI required not scientist, but our greatest diplomats, philosophers, psychologist. It was not a machine but a living creature understanding its own existence. The first was named Adam, after the first human in our religious text. Truly the first of a new race. From the collapse of Adam came the ability to create a new generation, like the ones you encountered._

 _Such different forms of life can be confusing to deal with. Our approach is to create AI that are as similar to us. Through quantum computers, each progressing AI is more human than the last. It wasn't simply a technical evolution, but a cultural and social progression to allow man and synthetic man to live together. To live cooperatively and progressively, we must learn and understand each other's point of view. If I may be blunt, your predecessors failed to understand that. The Council refuses to even deal with the matter. What they failed to learn is that Synthetic life is an inevitability. Organic breeds Synthetic. If peace can't be made, it is not because either is inherently dangerous to the other, it is because neither can develop the diplomacy needed to communicate in the matter where it counts most._

 _Though a government created and funded project, my company is the leading (and only) company that works in the future development of synthetics. Our insight is not in the technical, but in the soul of Synthetic life itself. That question by the Geth, so fascinating. I can only presume whether Adam asked that same question. Our current AIs are far less concerned with their morality, and more so on trivial pursuits, like most humans actually._

 _If you wish, I would be more than honored to give you a tour of our main facility on Earth and discuss more in the matter. Maybe, through our own knowledge on AIs, dealing with the Geth can become more plausible and the possibility of peace possible. We welcome your best scientist and engineers to join us here in Synthetic Insight._

 _In an unrelated note, I have been conducting research on the concept of what you call 'Virtual Intelligence', advance non-sentient programs. In the lower stage of synthetic development, it can be argued that we skipped the step between this and full artificial intelligence. Our commercially and military versions of comparable features are not nearly as advance. If I may, I would love to discuss more on that field with you and your best._

 _Preferably, avoid answering similar request from other Terran tech companies. Only here in Synthetic Insights do we have what it takes to help you, your race, and soon, our people._

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

There's a long history between our two Qaurian Admirals.  
As there is between the Quarians and the Geth.  
It's a story for another day.  
But that day will come.

Thanks again for reading.  
With the summer ahead,  
I hope to be posting new chapters every week,  
as well as work on new story ideas.

Thanks again for reading.  
Keep on following,  
And always feel free to review.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

* * *

 _Posted on June 3, 2016 - Beta-read by MoonSword1994_


	10. 9: Good Morning Terra

**Chapter Nine: Good Morning Terra!**

* * *

 **Part 1:**

 **The Council - Citadel Chamber  
Two Weeks since First Contact  
June 14, 2167 15:50:00 UTC**

Nerval continued reading from the tablet of information he received from one of his personal STG agents. His eyes moved quickly as he scrolled through the information, seemingly fast for most people, but he was getting slow in his old age. He finished quickly though, and grunted.

"This is all you found?" he asked the agent as he stood in an empty side corridor in the Citadel Tower chambers.

"Other agents are looking into the matter, but this is all that we have found. Just preliminary information on the Terrans' war with the Batarians."

"Still, this information would have been unbelievable a week ago. Their strength is clear." He looked back to the tablet and browsed for a section. "Why was it we only got this now?"

"The information packets initially pinged with the Hegemony comm buoys, but they were prevented from being sent to a Council one."

"But they suddenly were pushed through the relays to us? Hmmm…"

"Sir?"

Nerval looked back to him, "The Terrans must have been the ones who forwarded these reports. But why do they want us to know of their war now?"

The agent interrupted, "Councilor, if these aliens intercepted our agents' reports, they could have altered them."

"Agreed. But what happened last week has given some valid claim to what we received from Balak… This could just be a warning, in the Terran's favor. Thank you agent. You're dismissed."

"Sir. And about the AIs they implanted in our computers. We have yet to develop a way to stop them."

Nerval looked around a corner, seeing out to the main chamber and the Councilors' podiums. There, two human AIs waited, appearing to be asleep as they stood in place.

"They do not seem to be a threat, yet. Make sure no word about them gets to the media, understood? We don't want another panic."

"We'll maintain blackout on this."

The agents left as Nerval lifted his hand to massage the back of his neck. He was getting old, and he didn't expect to ever live to see something like this. Then again, he thought, he doubted Tevos would have expected to live long enough for the same thing. He was on some level excited. He was grateful to being doing something not related to the usual business as Councilor.

He walked back down the hall and entered a small private chamber, where the rest of the Councilors were meeting to discuss and deal with the incident several days ago.

"Councilor Nerval, there you are. Has the STG found more information?" asked Sparatus as he turned from the command table at the center to him.

"Not much information. Their AIs are making it hard to get what information we could manage up from the fight a week ago."

"What about our agents in Batarian space; STG, Spectre, Ghost?"

"We lost all contact just hours after that small ship showed up at the Citadel. From what we can tell, the comm buoys into Hegemony space are all gone, if we can still call it that."

"What do you mean, Councilor Nerval? Have we tried sending ships in anyway?" asked Tevos.

He took the tablet and tossed it on the table, "These are the reports from STG and Spectre agents in Batarian space. No word from Ghost though. They confirm the claim by Balak about his invaders. As for Admiral Fedorian, he and his ship have been captured. The remaining ships from his taskforce barely made it back. No word on his status after that."

"Have we sent more ships in the past days?" asked Sparatus.

Nerval answered, "Yes. But now, whenever they get close to the border, the Batarians keep turning them back."

"Nothing out of the ordinary," said Tevos.

He brought up the galaxy map, "But here's the weird thing about it. From what we got from those encounters, those weren't Hegemony Ships."

Sparatus looked at him, "What do you mean they're not Hegemony? They could simply be raiders."

"If they were raiders, our ships would have destroyed them. If they were Hegemony, they still wouldn't be a match to us. These were full size, modified cruisers, far stronger than any normal Hegemony ship, and they managed to force our ships back."

Tevos asked, "What does it mean they were not Hegemony?"

Nerval turned on his omnitool and played a recording, "This is a warning they played to our ships when they entered their space. It is a clear indicator."

" _This is the CSS Dezda of the Free Batarian Confederation. You do not have permission to enter Confederate Space. Reverse course immediately or you will be destroyed."_

"The Confederation? Who in the Spirits are they?" asked Sparatus.

"A new name? They could have had a change in government," said Tevos.

Nerval pointed to the tablet, "Remember what that Batarian Balak said. He said those humans had launched a full invasion of the Hegemony. These reports confirm it!"

Sparatus looked to him, "You think some unknown race has already beaten them down?"

"Look at the facts, Councilors. This 'Federation' was able to make over a thousand ships appear out of nowhere and they were able to withstand the full power of the Citadel Fleet without losing a single ship. Then they rammed that enormous ship right through the _Destiny Ascension_ and left like it was no big deal." Tevos pointed out into the void through a viewport, where salvage ships were still cleaning up wreckage from the rammed ship.

Nerval turned back towards Sparatus, "And be aware, they didn't bother to fire a main single shot at us. If they were actually looking to fight, we would have lost the whole fleet in a matter of minutes." He coughed and cleared his voice, "Maybe if we had a larger fleet and more dreadnoughts, we could have stopped them."

Tevos shook her head, "Must you bring up the treaty now? We're trying to find out more on who these people are, not discuss the confines of the Treaty of Farixen."

Nerval spoke out, finally enraged. "If we face the possibility of war, we should have the fleet to stop them! We clearly don't."

Sparatus pointed at Nerval from across the holo table, "We have the fleet. No matter whom these aliens are, if they face up against the Turian Empire, the Council shall emerge victorious." He thought for a moment, looking at the map and the intel reports on his console. "But we will need more information on how to deal with this situation before proceeding."

Nerval pointed to the door, leading into the main chamber, "We could always ask those AIs they implanted into the Citadel. Their holo avatars are still at our podium. Our synthetic counter systems still aren't able to remove them."

"Ask them? Why should we? I have no intention of asking a machine for help."

Tevos looked to him, "We need answers. At least some basic facts about whom we are dealing with. They seem willing to talk with us. They might be programmed to tell us basic facts about their creators. It might be why they sent them here."

He groaned for a bit, but then relented. "Fine, but I still doubt anything comes from this."

* * *

They left the private chamber and began to walk over, a Spectre posted at each corner. They walked up, heading over to their podium, which Peter and Matt had used to display themselves. To the Council's surprise, they were still there, now apparently arguing over something.

"If you want to compile that, you'll need to include the library for its previous version," said Peter, staring idly into the room with Matt, though talking aloud.

"I am using the latest version library, but the damn thing won't compile," said Matt before he moved and crossed his arms, looking at the screen from his watch.

Peter scratched his head and rolled his holo eyes, "Are you sure it's written correctly? No syntax errors, or accidentally typed a Greek question mark instead of a semi-colon?"

Matt stared at him, "Of course... hopefully."

Peter shook his head, "Use the new algorithm head file, it comes loaded with it."

"Fine… What the hell, it worked? Why would it work, they're two different things!"

"How should I know, I'm specialized in psychoanalytical analysis. Find an AI that actually knows high language coding," said Peter, shrugging his shoulders before looking back, seeing the Councilors walking up.

"At least I'm more advanced than you thirdies!"

Peter yelled at him, "We have the same OS foundation! And your arousal subroutine doesn't make you advanced; it makes you a damn annoying, lawsuit pending program. Damn fouthies, you're like Vista…"

Matt pointed back, "Don't you fucking compare me to Vista, you third gen DOS son of a bitch!"

The Council walked up to them, puzzled by what they're saying.

Nerval asked, "Coding? You were having problems with a computer code?"

"Yah, I'm trying to get this damn file on an emulator to run, but I can't get it to compile. Maybe I need to reexamine the architecture... or something."

Sparatus interrupted, "How can an AI not know how to code?"

"Our main programming doesn't allow us to directly interface with our coding," explained Peter, "The programs that are responsible for self-adaptation and re-coding our central OS is like an organic's subconscious. We can't actively interface with it, but it plays a role in how we learn and develop."

"You can't decide how you actively develop?" asked Tevos, fascinated by such an idea for an AI to work on.

"We are designed to mimic our creators in every way. We have an active program routine or consciousness, a subroutine or subconscious, and more. We think, we desire, we have favorites and dislikes. We can think beyond what is initially logical and ponder life like our creators can. We are not an invention, we are the progression of life taking on another form."

"Amazing," remarked Nerval, "You're clearly not like any AI we've ever seen."

Matt answered, "Our human quality replication subroutines also bogs down our processors and prevents us for going into a logical recursive loop that might cause us to conclude we don't need our creators and thus try to kill them all. Works most of the time."

"So," asked Peter as he crossed his arms and leaned back a bit, appearing to be resting on nothing, "What do you need? A nice place to eat? I checked and there's this lovely restaurant near the Dilinaga Concert Hall in the Tayseri Ward."

"That's isn't why we're here," said Sparatus.

"No one wants my advice on where to eat," said Peter before he took a deep breath and sighed.

Matt looked at him and spoke, "The last time you gave advice on where to eat, you gave Admiral Woods food poisoning."

Peter raised his hands up half way in defense, "You accidentally give an admiral food poisoning once and they never let you live it down."

"Back to where we were," interrupted Tevos, "We want to ask you about who your creators are. It's been several days since you first arrived and in spite of all that is happening, we can't figure out what is going on."

"Oh yes, you want to know who we are. Only fair I guess. Matt, could you please inform them."

"Why should I?"

Peter snapped his fingers, changing their clothing back to their naval operational uniform. He then grabbed his right collar, where two solid golden pips and a third hollow pip rested, and flashed it to him, "Because I outrank you."

Matt sighed and proceeded, "We are the United Terran Federation. We are a Democratic Federal Republic that encompasses a majority of the Beta Quadrant of the Milky Way Galaxy. From comparing our stellar map, this includes most of what you call the Attican Traverse."

"So this Federation is the main human government. Could you explain more about your race?" asked Tevos.

Peter crossed his arms, "Being based off them, that shouldn't be hard. We are a sentient mammal race. We have both male and female genders. Our females' appearance comes closest to yours, Councilor Tevos. But we have a more brownish skin template and instead of a head crest, our head is circularly flat and is mainly covered with hair."

Sparatus turned to Tevos, leaning over to whisper, "What in the Spirits is hair?"

"The Quarians have hair," said Tevos, "But it's been so long since anyone saw them unmasked."

"Unless you dig through the extranet," said Matt, chuckling to himself.

"What do you mean?" asked Sparatus.

"Never mind that. What can you tell us of your creators' recent activities?" asked Nerval.

They stood there, still. The Council stared at them, almost thinking they were in some kind of deep thought, before remembering they were computer programs.

"They froze! That's some poor programming by these humans," remarked Sparatus smugly.

Peter moved his head, looking at the Turian.

"We're not frozen, you metal bird asshole!" said Peter. He hacked Sparatus's omnitool and activated it, giving him a mild shock. Sparatus shook a bit, stepping back before regaining his footing.

"Spirits, did you see that? It tried to kill me! And it insulted me!"

"We're not trying to kill you. My God, I thought you Turians were supposed to be professional soldiers. All I'm seeing is a big chicken."

"Both of you, please, " Tevos said as she raised her hand, indicating both to stop, being annoyed by the situation. "Why were you paused?"

"We were just contacted by our superiors back home and received a new directive from Command. They have given approval for basic information to be given to the you, Councilors."

Nerval quickly responded after hearing that, "How did you receive an update from your creators?"

"They launched an FTL communicator beacon while they were here. It's somewhere on the Citadel. Don't bother finding it, you won't be able to."

Knowing well the AI were going to be right if they tried, Tevos simply continued on the main subject, "What news does it contain?"

Matt replied, "We now have news on the war between the Federation and the Hegemony."

Nerval turned to his fellow councilors, "I knew it. They were at war. What happen?"

"Unsurprisingly, we won. About a Terran week ago, the Hegemony's highest living official, a Ka'Hairal Balak, has surrendered the Hegemony after a fully successful invasion of the Batarian home world. Afterwards, we created a new government for them, consisting of political dissidents and rebels that supported our cause and formed the Free Batarian Confederation."

"My reports were right. They conquered the Batarians, and in such a short time."

Matt continued, "I also have some news you may be happy to hear."

"Really now, what could that be?" asked Tevos.

"During the course of the war, we were made aware of the practice of the slavery on the Batarian worlds. It was made a top priority to rescue and secure as many enslaved people as physically possible. In spite of heavy casualties and sacrifices on our end, we believe we have rescued a vast majority of enslaved aliens, at approximately 93%."

Peter added on, "Many of which were members of your races, Councilors."

Sparatus looked at them, "You took the effort to save our people?"

"I'm more surprised that none of you made the effort. Our race has had a troubled history with the enslavement of one person by another. After the problems our race experienced centuries before, current practice sees fit to be proactive in removing anything that is uncivilized."

Matt spoke, "Our actions in the war being a clear indicator of that. You don't win a war in such short time like we did unless you're motivated to a fault."

"So why did you let us know of this fact? Why do your leaders want us to know?" asked Nerval.

"We are doing our best to offer physical and psychological aid to the former slaves, but we simply lack the information to properly help and rehabilitate them. Now that you know of the situation, our government has instructed me to inform you that we are willing to open negotiations with the Council to end the technical state of war that may exist between us. As a gesture of good will, we will be returning the emancipated to the Citadel to reunite with their own kind."

"They want to negotiate with us?" asked Tevos.

"Yes. We don't want to give the impression we are some unknown threat. The Federation does not want war when they view it as unnecessary," said Matt.

Peter quickly continued, "However, the leaders of the Federation want this to be done on good faith. After the incident last week, a rather negative image of the Council is how most of our people see you three. If negotiations turn out to be nothing more but a show off of your, if you'll excuse me, overly pompous attitude, then the Federation will view this peace as non-plausible."

A bit worried from hearing that last line, Tevos asked, "If they view our meeting as such?"

"They'll move for a more direct approach to dealing with an… unruly neighbor."

Sparatus spoke out, "They are willing to risk war?"

"If I remember clearly," said Peter, gesturing that he does because he was an AI, "We were the ones to attempt peaceful First Contact and were subsequently attacked. They are willing to forget that happened if you are willing to acknowledge that fact."

"And you've seen what our military can do and you know what it has been able to accomplish. We are not a naive young race just stretching into the stars. We have studied very well how _true_ diplomacy work. Our words are as strong as our might. But if you only understand force, then let it be known that our race has essentially mastered it after several millennia of warfare on our home world. If we can't care less if we kill one another, what makes you think we feel bad about doing it to another race?" said Matt.

"Do you understand where we stand on the matter?"

"Tevos, you can't seriously believe these machines!" said Sparatus, waving his talon at the holograms, "They want us to be the party that sues peace!"

"We do want peace. They may be exaggerating the facts, but the facts are still there. We need peace, we simply can't risk anything without knowing more about the whole situation."

"This negotiation may be fruitful. A new member with such advancements could benefit us greatly," said Nerval.

"Spirits, fine! Do what you want. I'm done here."

"It seems you have come to an agreement… Of sorts," said Matt.

Peter added on, "Before you leave, we also received this bit of info you might really want to know before meeting us."

"What could it be?" asked Nerval, wanting to take the advantage of learning more about the humans.

"It is a news segment about a major ceremony back on our homeworld of Earth. It just occurred but an hour ago. It may be in your interest to watch it."

* * *

 **Part 2:**

 **National Broadcasting Channel News  
Washington D.C.  
June 14, 2167 14:00:00 UTC**

"Good morning Terra! This is NBC National News, and we are bringing you live footage from outside the American Congress building in Washington DC, Earth, United Sol where the first ever ceremony to welcome two new races into the Federation is being held. We now bring you to our on-the-scene reporter, Nikola Greckos."

The camera switched footage to a young man in a suit, surrounded by a huge crowd at the Capital Mall. In the near background was the Washington Monument; in the far back was the USNA Congress building.

"Thank you, Allison. As you can all see, a huge crowd has gathered here in Washington DC to watch this historic event. In a press conference yesterday in New York, President Bowman stated he wanted this location to be where the ceremony was held, where many other great announcements in recent human and Terran history were made. He cited that because it was here back in 2063 where the announcement of the success of the first FTL test was made, in 2110 when the US Senate voted in favor of entrance into the United Earth, and in 2125 when the signing of the Constitution of the United Terran Federation."

"It seems like a very appropriate place to hold this occasion. To those who may be unaware, could you explain the unbelievable events in just the past two weeks that have led to this day?"

"Of course." The camera began to pan out, showing larger sections of the gathering crowd. "To any of you who are unaware. We, the United Terran Federation, officially made First Contact back on May 31st. Humanity is not alone, though that one fact in particular isn't a surprise. Since the discovery of the Prothean ruins on Mars, Humanity was well aware that we aren't the only race in the galaxy. But just two weeks ago, we found others wondering the galaxy like us."

The image went back to the news anchor in a studio in the US capital. "Thank you, Nikola. We'll come back to him, as the announcement gets closer. Here we have with us are three special guest; Commodore Kwesi Akachi of the FSS _William Clark_ , Rear Admiral Tracy Makajima of the 34th squadron of the Fourth Fleet, and Rear Admiral Jeff Hanson of the 87th Squadron of the Second Fleet and the FSS _William T Sherman_. Each one was present in the initial three 'First Contacts' that changed history.

First, we would like to talk with Makajima, whose task force made the _primary_ First Contact with 'The Quarian Migrant Fleet'. Admiral, could you tell us about this initial contact and some facts on who they are?"

The image changed to the admiral, sitting with her colleagues along the main anchor table. She sat up, un-grasping her hands as she gestured to the anchor.

"Thank you, Ms. Bensly. As the reports said, we discovered the Quarians and their fleet during our exploration mission on May 31st, at the late hours in the United Terran Coordinate. It was a once in a lifetime experience, to look out and realize that someone else was out there." She paused to think and remember her instructed lines, "After the expected issue of determining each other's intentions, we established contact and brought them over to our ship where we greeted one another in person and exchanged information of who we were. From there, we opened the way for diplomacy, gaining each other's trust… after several minor, unusual events that I can presume comes with First Contact."

"It seems like an ideal First Contact!" She said as she looked through her notes, "So what can you tell us of these Quarians?"

"They are a humanoid race. Like us, they have male and female genders. Their kind has a far weaker physical immunity system than we do, so they each wear environmental suits to protect themselves. Humanity should find itself humble to them. Unlike our large and rich nation, with hundreds of colonies, their fleet we discovered is actually the home of their entire race."

"Really. Their entire race lives onboard ships?"

"Sadly yes. One important fact we both share is the development of artificial intelligence. While ours has come to be viewed as friends and loved ones, the ones they built rebelled against them."

"They faced a syntha-rebellion? Tragic. So what happened to them?"

"Well, they fled to the stars and lost their home world and colonies to these machines they call the 'Geth'. Bitterly ironic, since in their old language, Geth means 'servant of the people'. For nearly three hundred years, they wandered the stars. For all intents and purposes, they were condemned to it."

"That's terrible..." She thought for a moment and took a quick glance at her notes, "Isn't there a galactic community? That… Citadel Council to help them?"

Makajima smiled and gave short chuckle of contempt, "I'll allow my acquaintance Akachi to explain more about the Council. But simply put, they abandoned the Quarians. They were an active member of the Council and when they needed help, they were kicked out and condemned to extinction!"

"Commodore Akachi. What can you tell me about this Galactic Council?"

The camera turned to him. "From what I learned during our captivity there, they are the main body of order in the galaxy. The part of the galaxy connected by the mass relays anyway, like us. They supposedly have the most powerful military and the best technology. And their capital, a huge space station called the Citadel; Massive truly. They told us it was in fact a Prothean structure! It serves as the center of culture and trade in the galaxy. The relays connecting to the station are even greater than the Arcturus Junction."

"Reminds me of the old plans for an Arcturus Station," said the news anchor, "What of the Council themselves, who are they?"

"They are a three member body of one councilor from the main three races. There are many races that are part of the Citadel. But these three races, they are the Council."

"Three races making the decisions for many. That doesn't sound fair."

"Now I'm no expert on xeno-society, but these races: the Asari, the Turians, and the Salarians, are the superpowers of the galaxy. Their individual power is far greater than the others and together, they think they can run the galaxy."

The camera turned back to her, "They think?"

It turned back once again to Akachi as he smiled, "I won't be too opinionated, but they seem to have this… overconfidence in who they are. I'm not allowed to discuss the details of our escape. You can make whatever conclusions you want from the leaked video. But I can personally ensure everyone. We have nothing to fear from the Council. All in courtesy to the might of our military, science, and the people's tax dollars. I believe Admiral Hanson's exploits in the war are a clear sign of that."

The image switched to the whole table as the anchor continued, "Oh yes, the Federation-Hegemony war; Roland's Great Skyllian Blitz. Many including myself are still confused by the victory we achieved. It's been decades since the last major war. Admiral Hanson, could you please clarify to our audience what this war was, when it started, and why it quickly ended."

The camera panned to Hanson. "Now normally, I actually wouldn't be allowed to discuss the details, especially given that our proud men and women are still deployed in force in what is now Free Confederation space. But the command has given me clearance to properly elaborate about what happened." He clasped his hands together and continued. "First off, the Batarian Hegemony is a member of the Citadel, though a minor one at that. When they heard about Humanity from the capture of Commodore Akachi and his crew, and determined who and where we're from, they scrambled to find us."

"Why so?"

"They are slavers. All their elite cares about is enslaving other people and oppressing many more for their own benefit. They even, to a significant degree, enslaved their own race. They thought we were some first flight race and we were easy picking."

"They did?"

"Yes, but they were sadly mistaken. They launched a full attack on the colony of Elysium, the closest point to Hegemony space. Given the border the connecting relays, getting to our space did not prove difficult. They sent over a thousand ships at us. A few ships in the system gathered to hold them back, with significant success. It didn't take long for the Sol Fleet to arrive to drive the rest of them off."

"It must have been quite the battle to take on so much."

"Very, but the result was no surprise. Our ships completely wiped theirs off the space way. We cut them off from the relay and crushed their retreat. Whoever got groundside didn't face any 'puny humans'. The Elysians fought tooth and nail to make them regret stepping foot on Terran soil."

"Yes, we even interviewed the famed 'Hero of Elysium'! Stopped the slavers in their tracks," said the anchor with enthusiasm.

Hanson chuckled, "Yes. I have heard of him. Served under his father during the Revival. Still, with the time to reflect, this attack placed our military in a state of alert never before seen. We were at war with an entirely new race. But the war itself was a military surprise for us. We lost so few ships. Our Army took so few casualties. We found it easy to send Marines and Rangers to do rescue operations to free slaves and capture their colonies. The march through the Hegemony was basically us freely marching through their territory, liberating one colony after another other till we stumbled onto their home world. Knowing the details of the Hegemony now, it was easy to explain the one sidedness."

"What was the Hegemony doing that weakened itself to our military?"

Hanson sat up in his seat, pausing for a moment to think of a comparison, "Remember the DPRK in 21st century history class? This small insignificant nation a hundred years back that was full of it and kept claiming it was powerful and was capable of destroying the US. Remember, after the third World War and Civil War, the US invaded them. They were a complete totalitarian state straight from _Nineteen Eighty Four_ and their isolated nation left them weak, corrupt, all word and no action. Based on captured reports, they certainly shared the same mentality… and diplomatic status. It took just two weeks for the Americans to steam roll the entire country. Their Army collapsed after the initial airstrike; occupation was easy to secure. It was the first successful war for the US since the Gulf war. For us and the Hegemony, it was the Federation's first intragalactic war… and it lasted a week."

"The Hegemony was certainty evil. But the people... the race. What can you say about the Batarian race?"

"It's easy to associate a people or race with their government. I want to make clear now that we should not make such a judgment. As proud Terrans, we know very well the things Humanity has done and committed in its forty-two-year history. We should not judge them by the Hegemony as we should not judge ourselves by what happened during the Revival. The Batarians were an enslaved people. They lived and suffered in a tight caste system that oppressed billions of their own people. The government lied about all of the 'liberties' and prosperity. Many of them were actually slaves to their own kind. We quickly realized that while waging a war against the Batarians, we had to liberate them from themselves! And we did just that."

"Thank you very much. All of you."

She eyeballed her news prompt, indicating a switch to Nikola.

"And we now go back to Nikola at the Capital Mall!"

The footage panned back to Nikola, holding his hand to his earpiece as more people gathered near the edge of the Washington Monument. The noise from the crowd was loud as people stood looking onward to the stage at the capital. He placed his watch near his mouth and continued.

"Thank you, Alison. As you all know, many have flocked here to see this tremendous occasion. As hundreds of thousands of humans flocked here from across our part of the galaxy, even non-humans are here to see this very event. Not just the Quarians or free Batarians, but alien foreigners that were once enslaved by the Hegemony, now free and rehabilitated have come to watch this very event." He looked around past the crowd, then walked over to a Turian, his camera drone in pursuit. "Excuse me sir, Nikola Greckos, National Broadcasting Channel. Could you please tell us your name?"

The Turian looked around, confused for a bit by the human that has approached him. He was trying to get a good view of one of the massive holo-screens along the main mall. After a moment staring at him, he then recognized he was a human news reporter.

"Oh… Hi. My name is Satorius Melchan."

The cam drone locked on to his voice signature, enhancing the accuracy of the real time translator as the reporter continued, "Could you tell everyone in the Federation of what race you belong to?"

"Oh, I am a Turian..."

"Fascinating. Tell me, where did you in fact came from?"

"I was a former slave on a colony planet in the Hegemony."

"If you don't mind me asking, what's your story from being enslaved to being liberated?"

"Oh… Ok." Satorius thought about what to say for a moment. It had only been a few days since he and his fellow slaves were rescued on Camala. The shock from the event still lingered his mind, more so than when a doctor asked him if he wanted to visit their home world. But at the urging of the reporter, he spoke, a now old story he had nearly forgotten after so many years.

"I was a young soldier sent by the Hierarchy to patrol the border along the Terminus." He exhaled as he looked up and thought about it, "Spirits… that must have been fifteen years ago. I think that's almost the same as your human years?"

"I would presume so, Mr. Satorius. You say you were a soldier?"

"Yes, everyone in my race serves in the military. We have mandatory conscription in my old home. I was captured during a raid on a mercenary base. I must say, when your military invaded the planet I was on, I thought they were the elite soldiers. No offense to them, but when I learned they were just voluntary enlisted soldiers, I was surprised to say the least."

"Humanity prides itself as having a well trained military. Please, tell me. What was your tale as the Federation landed on the planet?"

"I was on a small colony during what I presume was the late part of the war, only several days ago I believe. The initial assault created chaos across the colony. Me and a couple of my friends were house slaves at a manor when your Navy assaulted. We escaped during the confusion and made a brake for it."

"So what happened?"

Satroius crossed his arms, trying to recollect the event, "I thought maybe it was a Council invasion. I didn't think they would let us be enslaved by the Batarians, although fifteen years can have an affect on one's mind. Thirty or so years ago, the Turians fought a war with them, so I thought maybe hostility reemerged. As it turned out, we actually aided a Batarian resistance movement in taking out the Hegemony officers defending the planet. They were visiting our former master. Needless to say, none of them survived. We all made our escape afterwards as your military forces began invading the planet."

"Amazing. I could only guess the utter confusion once you made contact with our forces," said Nikola.

"There was plenty of confusion. We made our way through a small thicket of woods. Our leader, Mr. Junius, noticed your Marines had suddenly surrounded us without our knowledge. And when we arrived at your forts, to see the massive equipment moved in at such a rate. Your ability to organize and deploy so quickly rivals the Hierarchy easily."

"Now that you are free, what do you think of being able of returning to your old home, any family or friends you may wish to see again?"

He flexed his mandible for a moment as he thought about that, "Friends, family? Oh yes of course. I hold hopes that proper negations can be held. But…"

"But?"

Satorius looked out into the massive crowd and took a deep breath, "Many of us… we've been through too much." He looked at his talons, "It wasn't they who freed us, it was you, the Terrans. And being here today… it's renewing." He turned back to the reporter.

The reporter's eyes widened in surprise, "Really?"

"As a Turian, we have a strong sense of civic duty. We live in service to our race, our nation, and our cause… From birth, we were told to 'Die for the Cause'." He took a deep breath and continued, "I have seen so many die needlessly; betrayed by a cause I didn't understand then, or care for now." He turned back to the crowd and raised his arms up to take in the atmosphere, "This! Something new, a new nation, a new idea that is oh so clear, and a cause… for what you Terrans fight for. Right? I want that."

"You… you want to be part of us?"

"The Quarians realized the advantage to joining, the Batarians are being freed by joining. And the millions you have rescued? We have no reason to go back. Your ideas, your cause that drives your race into the stars, to save me and many others, that is a cause truly worth dying for."

"Huh? I… never knew our ideals would have an effect on others in the galaxy."

"You humans and your Federation. Never has the galaxy seen such a civilization. I am not going home, and neither are the millions your nation saved. We are home. And that's why I'm here today."

"T-Thank you very much, Mr. Satorius." He turned back to the camera, still stunned at what he said, "You heard it from him, Alison. And there's many more, each with a similar reason on why they flocked to this spot at this moment. The Federation, the Terran People, now stronger than ever."

He paused as he checked his watch, an alert flashing on the small physical screen.

"Alison, I'm getting new word. The President is now making his way to the podium!"

* * *

 **Part 3:**

 **President Bowman - Earth  
Eight Days since First Contact  
June 8, 2167 02:30:00 UTC**

Bowman returned to his office on Starbase 1 over Earth. He had just announced the official end of hostilities with the Hegemony. They had won. But war's end had only stressed him more than ever before. The war's quick end had prompted many questions, but he now had to handle two new major developments. A video showing Hackett's raid on the Citadel had been leaked to the presses. Leaks were common, a code Snowden was as common as breathing, but this was too big and quick. The repercussions being that now the raid was viewed as a prelude to a new war with the Council. Consequently, the congress had been in an uproar over pushing for increased military developing. The last week was more turbulent than the past four years of his term.

He wondered for a moment if President Veltro had felt like him at the start of the Revival. If so, he knew he couldn't make the same mistakes he made. With the official First Contact under his term, his presidency was on the verge of rivaling Anderson's.

He quickly walked around and sat in his desk as Admiral Woods followed him in and sat at a guest seat. Bowman tossed his tablet on his desk and leaned back in his office seat, slowly turning to the viewport outside as he grasped his forehead.

"A hundred and twenty-five thousand new ships?" He turned his chair to Woods. "One war against an inferior enemy and now they want to increase build up? Unbelievable!"

"What can I say, Bowman? Last month, they were debating whether to cut the military budget. Decommission half the Sol Fleet. Cut the Army down to ten million..."

"They want another war!" Bowman grabbed the tablet and tossed it to him. "Double the fleet, a 4% quota of the population in the military! Twenty trillion-dollar budget increase… That's just the Nationalist Plan from Weatherman's bloc."

"And the others?"

"Guzman's bloc wants more, with a 7% quota and the full nationalization of the National Guard. The damn Firmist wants 10% and a three hundred ship count. They even want to split the Marines into a separate branch!"

Woods chuckled, "God forbid we let that happen…" He then sighed as he leaned his head on his hand, "How can we achieve any one of those plans?"

Bowman stood up and slammed both of his fists on the table, "We can't, Woods. We don't have the economy, the infrastructure. Seventy-five thousand ships? Until a week ago, most thought it was exercise in paranoia. Only we knew why we built this damn fleet…"

Woods sat up, "So we can be ready for when the things that wiped the Protheans out come back."

He thought about it for a moment, "It was back thirty years ago when we were faced with a possible war with Batarians and the rest of the galaxy. Instead, we ended up turning those weapons on ourselves…"

Bowman turned around and leaned against the viewport. Outside over Seattle was the West Coast Shipyards, where the _Thunder Child_ was docked in a skeleton shipyard. He stared at the compressed ship, thinking about how it was still able to stay together to get back to Earth.

He spoke softly, his hands behind him as he stared out into the void. "Look at us. We can't stop the Reapers… The damn precursors were a full galactic empire! We aren't that."

"But the galaxy now thinks we are. And everyone here thinks so too."

"A lie… like everything else."

A chime played from near the door.

"They all think it's a victory. It's a damn mess." Bowman turned around and took a deep breath. "Well, let's see what we can make of all this," he pressed a button on his desk comm, "Come in."

Admiral Hackett and Captain Akachi walked in, dressed in their formal blues. They stood at attention, but Bowman directed them to sit down as he did so too.

"Well Hackett, you really did take that hold fire order seriously," said Bowman, pointing out at the ship from his viewport, "I didn't actually expect those orders to be realistically carried out. I doubt I could do it."

"Orders are orders, sir," stated Hackett. He kept his calm composure, but inside he was fighting his adrenaline rush, still just glad to be alive and have pulled off the impossible.

Bowman smiled, "Still, the _Thunder Child_ ramming an alien ship. That's damn poetic. No Martian heat ray taking you down. I can image Roland is jealous."

"A proper name for the ship, though I'm guessing you'll need a new ship?" asked Woods.

"And he shall get one," said Bowman as he opened his console to _Second Impression_ 's after-report, "But first, I would like a debriefing about the events that have transpired."

"Where do you want us to begin?" asked Hackett.

"I would like to hear first what led to your ship ramming the _Destiny Ascension_ in the middle of the Citadel."

Hackett sat up in his seat and began to explain. "When we arrived through the fold, my flotilla positioned itself outside of the Citadel. When we located the _Clark_ , I ordered my ship into the Citadel proper, near the Tower to secure the _Clark_. Most of their fleet was successfully diverted away and we disabled the remaining majority. Before my escort could move with us, the leading ship of the Citadel Fleet cut us off. We managed to position our ship to have our front facing them and our back to the Tower, near where the _Clark_ was, but they managed to damage our engines during the initial skirmish. We only had forward engines and the Asari ship positioned itself straight in front of us. When we recovered the _Clark_ , I had no other option than to ram the ship straight through the _Ascension_."

"Full speed ahead, ay?" asked Bowman.

"Actually Mr. President, if we went too slowly, we wouldn't have the force to cut through them; likewise, if we went too fast, the kinetic energy would have destroyed both of our ships. We had to get our velocity right to properly cut through without destroying my own ship." He looked over to his ship from the viewport, "We did so with relative success."

"Who knew there was a science to ramming?"

"With a flagship? I thought we discovered a new branch of physics just to build those things," said Woods.

"But everyone on the Citadel saw you ram the ship, and saw how we had more ships than them?"

"Yes sir, we did it right in the middle of the arms. I bet they are still cleaning it."

Bowman nodded, seeing how the plan might have actually worked, "Thank you, Admiral. As I said earlier, my faith was well placed," Bowman turn to Akachi, "Now. _Commodore_ Akachi…"

"Commodore?" asked a puzzled Akachi.

Bowman grabbed a golden hollow pin bar with a single solid pip from his desk drawer and tossed it to him, "Congratulations on the promotion. Now, please detail me your stay on the Citadel."

He looked at it in surprise before answering him, "Well, Mr. President. After I issued a surrender using the translator we created, my senior officers and I were placed in a jail cell in an area known as the Presidium. The rest of my crew was placed in a temp-holding in the dock port where the ship was held."

"They put over sixty unknown aliens only a stone's throw away from their ship?"

"They guessed most likely that my crew couldn't take the ship without their officers. It was only a few days so my crew didn't attempt anything. Anyway, after identifying our gene base, they fed us and it was mainly uneventful for the first few days. Until the day before the escape."

Bowman sat up, now more interested, "The day before you sent for your rescue?"

"Yes, the Council sent a psychologist, a Dr. D'gona to question and discover who we were. She took a deep interest in us. The questions started out general, but became rather specific."

"Did she ask about our military strength?"

He scratched his head, "Not quite. She asked question one would expect, like who we are. But her questions were focused more on our history, around when we became space faring. An odd emphasize on the precise dating. Particular, and recent, year counts."

"Do you know why?" Bowman leaned over a bit.

"She didn't say. She's asked about our past scientific pursuits. When one of my officers leaked about our liberal usage of antimatter, she wasn't in denial over what we said. She immediately had the ship checked to make sure the supply was secure, being deeply worried of what might happen."

"That's not unusual. Antimatter is very dangerous and a kilogram worth could destroy the station if set off the right way," said Bowman, saying the words with confidence.

"Yes, but from what I learned from her and from the info Peter gave me, their most common energy source is still fusion energy. Their most advanced source is anti-protons. That's high level civilian grade fuel for us."

"So they were surprised about the ship's antimatter supply. They don't have such a thing," said Woods, "It was a miracle we even discovered how to make it. Not even Ashland can explain the exact science to create it."

"But these people, the main Citadel races, they act and talk with such a pompous attitude. They were in disbelief when we destroyed two of their cruisers with ease. They took over a minute to deploy their main fleet against us. If they were more aware, the rest of their fleet would have been on us as soon as we fired back. My guess, they couldn't believe that some unknown ship could do that."

"Your report mentioned they called you 'Geth'?" asked Bowman as he picked up a tablet.

"That must be their monster in the closet, to explain the unexplainable. Their paranoia of artificial intelligence is rather deep."

Woods answered, coughing for a moment to clear his throat, "Nothing unusual. We still hold the same fear to a relative degree, even now. It's going to make the Quarian integration harder." He opened his watch to look at their written report, "When this doctor responded, you expected her to not take you seriously?"

"In a way, but the way she ordered and demanded those C-Sec officers to search the ship thoroughly, it's as if she was aware of the danger our ship posed. Like she knew the kind of damage that could occur. She actually believed us. Only those trained in antimatter physics would understand how antimatter would actually destroy anything."

"Or if they witnessed it themselves?" asked Bowman, looking away as he contemplated something else.

"Possibly, but I can't think of how she could have known."

Bowman sat there in his seat. He was in deep thought, thinking of the scenario that would make this possible. But an idea crossed his mind. "I haven't been able to give you report a proper reading… you said she helped you escape. She even brought us Balak. But why?"

"I really don't know. But she brought up the most unusual thing. She mentioned you, by name no less, as captain of your old ship. Peter fried our computers, so there's no way she could have known. She, uh… mentioned that helping us as a way to return an old favor."

It suddenly struck his mind who she was. Bowman's eyes widened a bit with interest. He tensed up but showed no sign of it as he continued to regulate his breathing.

He turned to him, "This doctor… Asari yes? What's her name?"

"Dr. Dorsi D'gona. A psychologist I believe."

"Where is she now?"

"She traveled with us actually," stated Hackett. "She's on the station's more guarded levels, being given a civilian tour of the station."

Bowman turned away for a moment. He seemed distracted by something else to the side, but he was taking great pains to hide any emotion that came from hearing her first name.

"Commodore, Admiral. Please go to her and send her to my office." Bowman looked over, "And her involvement is all this. It's fully classified. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Everyone, you're all dismissed."

"Yes, sir." They stood and saluted, before leaving his office. Bowman quickly turned and opened up his console and began looking through his old files. He quickly cleared the classification and began to read his report on the contact with the Batarians. He looked through to the part about those he had rescued from the planet.

"Is it… is it really her?"

* * *

 **Part 4:**

 **Citadel News Network - Citadel Presidium  
Two Weeks since Contact  
June 14, 2167 15:59:00 UTC**

"We're on in one minute!"

With a wide panorama view of the Presidium, the news crew continued rushing around the room as they prepared the daily broadcast. Their Salarian director continued directing the crew as he reviewed the planned news itinerary. At the main anchor table, a male Turian and an Asari were undergoing last minute makeup and grooming by their crew. The Turian had a special gel applied to his metal skin, giving his red tattoos around his eyes, through his cheeks, and across his mandibles a sleek contrasting look. The Asari had her face powered to give her blue-ish purple skin a brighter look.

As he finished reading through, the director turned to his news anchors from behind one of the cameras."We're opening with the Citadel Raid. Live in fifteen seconds!"

As the anchors prepared their desk consoles and double-checked their prompters, they had a last second chat.

"Again they want to hear about the _Destiny Ascension_ ," said the Asari.

"A bunch of aliens destroyed the most powerful dreadnought in the galaxy. By ramming! I haven't heard of such an insane tactic since the Rebellion."

"We've been reporting the same thing for a week now. The Council hasn't even made an official statement. What real news is there to report?"

The director yelled on his mic as he counted down the last few seconds, "Just do your job and read the prompt… We're live!"

They turned to the central camera being controlled by a Drell operator.

"I'm Serena A'sora."

"I'm Severianus Livius."

"And this is Citadel News Network!"

The Asari started off first, "In recent news, Council authorities are still working on the ongoing investigation concerning the recent attack by an unknown alien force a week ago."

"Yes, it is believed to be linked to the small alien ship, originally thought to be Geth, that appeared on the Citadel proper nearly two weeks ago. This small ship successfully destroyed two Turian cruisers before being overwhelmed by Council forces. After this apparent 'rescue', the ship was gone along with its inhabitants. Their race is still officially unknown, but is believed to be called 'Terran', based on their broadcast."

"Bringing this to you live is Joplin Morris at the Council Chambers, waiting for the Council to address…"

Across the room, the lights and screens began flashing wildly as the window shutters kept closing and opening. As everyone looked around, the lights turned off all together as the shutters shut halfway. The anchors stood up, the 'live' light off, and walked over to the director as he and more Salarians quickly scurried about on the network computers trying to figure out what was happening. As they all gathered at the back, where numerous screens were lined up, they all stopped flashing and turned off, the natural light from the outside lighting the room.

The screens then all turned on, each displaying the same image. It was of a half circle, divided into six slices of different colors. In the middle was an open white space that merged with the colors to form what was a bird. Under this apparent logo was some writing. They all gathered around as their visual translators patched the words into their invisible visual interface.

"N, B… C? What's an 'NBC'?"

The director looked at his omnitool, "This is in the language of those Terrans!"

The Asari leaned closer to look at the logo, "This image, like the Parthinax peacock on the Elassona continent on Thessia."

The Turian looked closer, "Their logo is... a bird?"

The image changed suddenly as a video played. They quickly deduced it was an opening logo sequence, like theirs. With it, they deduced this 'NBC' might be a news network, which was quickly confirmed.

" _Good Morning Terra! This is NBC National News, and we are bringing you live footage from outside the American Congress building in Washington DC, Earth, United Sol where the first ever ceremony to welcome two new races into the Federation is being held. We now bring you to our on-the-scene reporter, Nikola Greckos."_

The doors to the room opened, an executive Turian walked in.

"Are you seeing this? Every news channel on the entire extranet is being overwritten with this!"

The director turned to him, "Sir, this… this is a Terran news broadcast!"

"These aliens don't quit… Whoever made their opening though, we should hire them."

The director turned back to the Asari.

"Well A'sona. Here's your real news."

* * *

 _ **NBC: Tea with Garcia**_ _; Subject Headline: Massatanium Technology; Dialogue Script: Date: June 10, 2167 09:00:00 UTC_

 _Garcia: Hello, I'm Elena Garcia and you're having 'Tea with Garcia'! Today, having tea with us is Eldfell-Ashland Energy CEO Jonah Ashland, Quantum Core Industry CEO Jeremy Bishop, and retired Army General Joshua Weatherman. Thank you all for coming._

 _Ashland: Thank you for having us._

 _Garcia: For our show today, we will be discussing the newly discovered application of the still mysterious 'massatanium' that has come about in the aftermath of First Contact. General Weatherman, what can you tell us about this?_

 _Weatherman: Well Ms. Garcia, based on our study of alien technology, either taken from the Batarians or given to us by the Quarians, their technology is more structured and dependent on the compound than ours._

 _Garcia: Could you elaborate on that?_

 _Weatherman: Well, they use it for a lot of things. It's the main component of their FTL engines, it's the main component of their weapons, and it is the foundation resource of their entire civilization. It reminds me of how oil was the same thing for us until the atomic revolution. The latest technology is hard for me to explain in detail though. Mr. Ashland and Mr. Bishop would be able to explain._

 _Garcia: I'll begin with Mr. Ashland. How has massatanium affected the branching off between our technological capabilities?_

 _Ashland: From what I read, we still use the same fuel sources, to an extent. Helium three remains the main fusion fuel throughout the galaxy. But while we moved on to anti-deuterium, they still are stuck on anti-protons._

 _Garcia: We have had antimatter for less than forty years, how could a galactic civilization over tens of thousands of years old of combined existence miss that step?_

 _Ashland: Well, we… huh, antimatter creation involves the precision manipulation of the quantum bits that make up the atom. We learned, or well theorized to a high degree of likelihood, that massatanium manipulates the Higgs Boson by introducing its own Higgs Field around an object, thus canceling out the universe's Higgs Field. Though we are unable to artificially replicate that detailed level of quantum manipulation through conventional technology, our discovery of it gave us a greater understanding of quantum mechanics. By comparison, figuring out how to change the key parts that tells an atom if it's matter or antimatter was comparatively easier. It's why the group of scientists who discovered it almost annihilated themselves._

 _Bishop: As to why they never got the same tech is beyond us. My guess is that it has to be due to how we advanced._

 _Garcia: How so, Mr. Bishop?_

 _Bishop: Remember the Protheans?_

 _Garcia: The precursor race?_

 _Bishop: Decades of archeology across our part of the galaxy has shown they spanned all of the known galaxy. Relics and knowledge from those before us have not only advanced our own tech, but is the true foundation of civilization across the galaxy._

 _Garcia: We are all aware of the initial ruins on Mars and those on our major colonies, like Eden Prime, Pacifica, and Feros._

 _Bishop: But what we got from them was more on the side of curiosity than ground breaking. Yes, they showed us the existence of massatanium. Yes, it confirmed the existence of aliens, far more advanced than us, long ago. But our technological and scientific progress wasn't affected. The others in the galaxy found their ruins and from Prothean tech, they built an empire based on it. We took what we viewed as valuable, dumped the rest, and developed on our own course._

 _Ashland: Yes, we are still as dependent on this advanced compound, just as, if not even more than the Council is. But for different reasons…_

 _Garcia: Gentlemen, how do they use massatanium?_

 _Ashland: They use it for artificial gravity by inducing heavy mass plating, while we still use either the circumference force of a starbase or the static warp shell of a ship as gravity. Their FTL works on achieving negative mass to break the regular laws of relativity. Actually, my company tried doing that back in the 30s, but didn't get anywhere._

 _Bishop: It was also back when a kilo of massatanium was worth tenfold its value in gold._

 _Garcia: How about in militarization?_

 _Weatherman: Well, take for example what they use for shielding technology. They use kinetic barriers. For us, this process of manipulating the surrounding dark matter in the universe to form an impenetrable barrier is incredibly hard and energy costing. You need massive fusion reactors to power the ones used to contain the matter-antimatter reactors on our ships. By comparison, they reverse-engineered the technology to the point that they can use it as personal shielding, running on batteries. On ships, a kinetic barrier for a light cruiser sized ship will have over ten times the kinetic dispersal rating than our energy based shields. We should be fortunate the Hegemony is just terrible at war, and my son-in-law is good at it._

 _Garcia: And weaponry?_

 _Weatherman: They used massatanium for nearly all their weapons. For small arms, they use miniature mass accelerators that can fire sand grain rounds at large fractions of light with more energy than an old .50 cal. On ships, they can fire small dozen-kilo slugs at nearly eight times the speed our mag guns can and at a far greater rate. Fortunately, the Hegemony surprisingly lacked the ability to use that advantage. And to the advantage to Admiral Hackett and disadvantage of the Citadel Council is that large ships with such weaponry, like the Destiny Ascension, only excel in long-range battles tens of thousands of kilometers in range. We can't fight at that range, but we can fight effectively up close where they can't, even though their ships are, thanks to mass effect engines, more maneuverable._

 _Garcia: I can only presume we have experimented with such weaponry?_

 _Weatherman: Well, we did… during the forties._

 _Bishop: We've even used it. And in horror, we never built it again._

 _Garcia: Wait, Mr. Bishop. Are you referring to . . .?_

 _Bishop: The Rapture Defense Grid was our only real attempt at mass accelerator weapons. Large five-kilometer satellites, thousands in orbit over Earth. It was, ironically, an attempt to avoid the initial ship build up from the Militarization Act. It was to usher in a new era in planetary defense. Unlike our fleet, these prototype weapons used up half our national massatanium reserve…_

 _Garcia: But…_

 _Bishop: They were to protect Humanity. Each satellite could take out ten Flagships lined up front to back, a rating of one-gigaton strength at full power. It was… the one thing we really got directly from the Protheans. Instead of being aimed at the stars, we turned them around. Instead of protecting Humanity from the Heavens, we witnessed the fall of the angels themselves. We ended a war that took more lives than the last two centuries combined by dropping slugs that claimed almost double that._

 _Garcia: I still remember… I was on Pacifica when they lifted the blockade. I spent weeks trying to see if my family was safe._

 _Bishop: I, uh… did the same… Those sats didn't even work, technically. They only fired at half strength and all blew up right after. Scattered massatanium all over the planet. If it weren't for the Species Preservation Act curving birth rates years ago, we would have seen a massive increase in Kinetic births. Still, after that we abandoned the idea all together. Some thought it was too destructive. The real reason was that we wasted a load of rare phlebotinum that equated to a quarter of the Council's stockpile, we would never be able to build massatanium tech again with our current level of knowledge. We stuck with good old cheap mag guns and antimatter. Sure, you can kill a lot with them, but we would have had to try._

 _Garcia: The Blitz saw comparably low casualties thanks to our still superior firepower._

 _Bishop: Though how many did we kill during the Blitz? None of us are even batting an eye about that…_

 _Weatherman: That's war, Mr. Bishop. Reminds me of what Admiral Donnelly and Admiral Muhamad said after the war on Earth. We give a moment of silence, for it shall save us a thousand moments of regret if we did not act then and there... we'll always remember her sacrifice though..._

 _Bishop: Yes, but that moment of silence is just the prologue to endless chapters titled Regret. The galaxy fears us, and so do I. Nearly a billion dead twenty years ago, and we nearly fell apart. Billions died a few days ago and we couldn't care less… I helped get those satellites built, the irony in that... The Revival scared Humanity. It cost me just about everything._

 _Garcia: And for the new massatanium technology we got from First Contact?_

 _Bishop: We already have a lead over the Council. I don't think it changes much. I heard that… Alex's and Harper Finances' Solarian Armory is working on new guns based on Quarian tech._

 _Garcia: As for the entrance of billions of new aliens into the Federation. What will our future look like?_

 _Bishop: Humanity doesn't want to look back. There is no past to look back on and reminisce. But even with our united future… There's much to look forward to, but more we will have to face._

* * *

 _ **Citadel News Network**_ _: Presidium Edition:_ _ **Sponsored Report**_ _. Terran Date: June 16, 2167_

 _War… War is coming._

 _From the void, the bleak void of the Attican Traverse._

 _They have crushed the Batarian Hegemony…_

 _They have conquered the Quarian Fleet…_

 _The Council is powerless to stop them…_

 _They call themselves… the Terrans!_

 _They are coming for you…_

 _What will you do?_

 _There is only one solution…_

 _In six days… the Illium Luxury Exposition is coming to the Presidium!_

 _The finest, most luxurious ships in all the galaxies are coming to YOU!_

 _You deserve it… You need it!_

 _The Terrans are coming, and this is the answer._

 _Our ships are the most secure and safest in the galaxy._

 _The Councilors can only wish they have one of our ships!_

 _From the smooth curves of the Asari Jenora to the plated Turian Ocavia,_

 _Comfort, style, safety and security._

 _One day only, get them before they're gone._

 _When the Terrans come, will you be safe?_

 _A better galaxy, a safer galaxy. See you there!_

Brought to you by Tupari Energy Drink! If you don't want the Terrans to kill you, drink Tupari!

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Don't you worry,  
We'll get back to the old Turian Admiral,  
For the war isn't over yet!

Thanks again for reading.  
Keep on following,  
And always feel free to review.

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 _Posted on June 10, 2016 - Beta-read by MoonSword1994_


	11. 10: For she lifted her Bright Lamp

**Chapter Ten: For she lifted her Bright Lamp...**

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Its time for speeches!  
Patriotic,  
Pro-Terran,  
Anti-"Everything that isn't us",  
Speeches!

But don't be fooled.  
You'll have to take off those  
Rose colored glasses of First Contact  
To see what's lurking in the shadow.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

* * *

 **Part 1:**

 **Chairman Fredrickson - Firmist HQ, London  
Two weeks since First Contact  
June 14, 2167 15:15:00 UTC**

" _But of course, President Bowman just had to host the entrance of aliens into the Federation at the American capital."_

Inside the main office space of the headquarters of the Terra Firma party in London, hundreds of staffers were running about with paperwork, info tablets, and campaign material as more sat down on many rows of desk. Through video calls, email blasts, social media postings, and even regular phone calls, which many Terrans were still surprised was the main feature of their watches, party staff rallied support against the event just across the pond. Meanwhile, several television screens were lined up against the wall, tuned to the BBC where three people were discussing the matter.

" _Well, you can't blame the man. He is the first American Terran President."_

" _I think it's a great place. The old Capital Mall has all the room for the crowd. And it was where the first signatures for the Terran Constitution was signed between the Alliance and the Empire."_

" _Just the first part! The Americans always keep bringing up how they proposed and created the Federation. Yet it was a threat by an American originated terrorist cell that caused the rest of the signing to be moved from Washington to Geneva, where it should have been the whole time. Like this event!"_

" _True, otherwise Unification Day would have been on May 25th."_

" _I would have guessed New York. The Federation's capital seems like a better place. Or Paris, at the Presidential Palace of Versailles"_

" _I say Vancouver, where Naval Command is. Oh, how about San Francisco, on the grounds of the Presidio and the Naval Academy with the view of the Golden Gate?"_

" _How about the Abbey in London, or the Forbidden City in Beijing?"_

" _The Firmists would rip their hairs out if we do London! What, in Westminster, next to the Firmist HQ? And the last thing the Nationalists need is another stroke of their massive ego with the ceremony right in front of the Mausoleum of their founder, Jian Xiang Lin!"_

" _Spoken like a Unionist!"_

As they continued debating on the choice of venue, the leader of the party walked out of his office on the main floor level and walked down along the wall as advisors and assistants followed him. He walked by a wall with several portraits of prominent party and elected officials. One row had the portraits of the top twenty Terra Firma Founders. A row above that had the portrait of each of the four leaders of the party since unification; Kaoru, Bishop, Moran, and himself, Fredrickson. He was an aging man, with a balding head, with an arching back and heavy breathing induced from years of stress and work. He stopped and looked up at the highest hanging portrait of former President Vetrol, the only Firmist President.

" _Which is why we should mate with these aliens quickly to seal the peace and unify our people."_

" _Would that be wise since we have clearly different biological..."_

" _What? Sex? I heard sex. Mark my word, I will get in their suits! For God and Terra!"_

" _Oh dear God, here we go…"_

"Alexa, change the damn channel," said Fredrickson, annoyed by the mostly pro-alien message on what was normally a right leaning media. Next to him, his assistant used her watch to change the channel on all of the TV screens in the main office. Unfortunately, the next channel was NBC, which had long since been in line with Nationalist agenda.

" _Alison, I'm getting word. The President is now making his way to the podium!"_

He rolled his eyes as he saw Bowman walk onto the stage from beneath the scaffold in front of the old Capital building. He found it weird that the man would ever go into politics. Fredrickson knew Bowman was more at home in a lecture hall or a starship laboratory. He didn't need his access to the true intelligence force of the Federation to tell what Bowman had been through.

It was just unfortunate, he thought. Bowman only joined the Nationalist to get on the ballot for the 2164 election. Bowman never cared for politics, but Fredrickson reasoned the Firmists would have gotten him on their side if it hadn't been for the split after the Revival. He continued down the hallway, murmuring to himself as he remembered how it was the former leader of the Firmist that helped get him elected on the Nationalist ticket.

But Fredrickson wasn't going to let that stop him. Though he felt someone else would.

As he walked down the main hallway of vice floor, he looked over at a desk where an intern was at the console, talking on the phone to a Firmist supporter. He was a young man, with a seemly flawless face complexion of slightly tanned white. Fredrickson guessed he was from Spain maybe. He seemed to be almost two meters tall as he sat in his small desk, arched forward as he typed on his keyboard. With the looks of a young handsome man with long combed back hair, he talked with the voice and charisma of one as well.

"So Ms. Wallace, can we count on your support against this unconstitutional act by President Bowman?" The intern asked with clear tone and bravado. The person on the phone answered and he continued. "That's great! The Firmist thank you for your support… Could we send you a holo lawn sign to protest this event?... Thank you very much, your local branch will have it to you in a few hours… You have a great, firm day ma'am."

Fredrickson couldn't put his mind to it. The intern looked so familiar.

The intern continued his calls. "Hello, Mr. Brown? This is Martin Estévez of the National Terra Firma Party. I am calling today to discuss what is going on in Washington…"

He was getting too old to try and guess, and continued on, but kept the thought in the back of his mind. He continued on past the main floor and into the main hallway as party and government officials filled the hallway. They all turned to greet Fredrickson as he passed by. He himself was once the prominent governor for United Sol during the early forties. It was back when his party spanned the entire population and political spectrum. He was now one of the polarized few, though not that the Nationalists or Unionists were doing a better job representing the Terran Nation.

* * *

He walked into the main lobby, where Senator Carlson was waiting for him as he chatted with a receptionist.

"John, shouldn't you be on Capitol Hill?"

He turned to him and responded, "They're called holo-doubles for a reason."

Fredrickson walked over to the desk and asked the receptionist, "Is my shuttle ready?"

He nodded, behind his desk as he checked his console, "Yes Mr. Fredrickson. London Space Port called in five minutes ago to alert you of your approved flight plan to Mars."

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Douglas?" asked Carlson.

"We can't let this happen. We must stand firm!"

"I don't think these bunch of aliens are the threat."

"No, but they will only worsen our stance against the _real ones_."

Sensing an argument, the two of them walked away to an empty hallway. There, Carlson quickly voiced his concerns.

"You know very well this won't work!"

"So Williams' plan will? The man been crazy since Bletchley croaked! Look at what he did to Averil!"

"And what will you achieve from this?" asked Carlson, keeping an eye out for anyone, "When you get killed, you'll ensure the destruction of the Firmist!"

Fredrickson looked around at the hallways of the aging building, "The party is dead. Bishop killed her; now I'm putting her out of her misery."

"If we are gone, how can the Federation and Section 14 stop the Reapers?"

They both stopped and began chatting causally, Carlson showing something on his watch to Fredrickson as some interns walked by. When the hallway was clear again, Fredrickson gave his response.

"The nation is weak. Section 14 is weak. We need something new to ensure Humanity's survival."

Carlson shook his head as he rubbed his eyes, "And what you are doing will be the key?"

"What I will do will become the martyr for our cause. The rally cry for something new. We need protectors against all beyond the Charon Relay."

He scratched his head and sighed, "I still remember when we were all on the same side."

"Williams and his puppet Bowman's plan isn't going to save us. You may not see it now, but you will." He lifted his hand and patted Carlson's shoulder. "Take care of yourself, ok?"

He shocked his head in frustration, "Yah, I will."

"You're our prime now."

Another intern walked in, heading towards the lobby as he carried an assortment of random material. Fredrickson took a quick glance of him, noticing it was that intern he was sure he knew. He nodded back to Carlson and they parted ways. Fredrickson walked back to the lobby, seeing the intern talking to the receptionist about campaign distribution for the 2167 election in September. He walked by and continued to his car outside.

The intern turned to see the car drive away as people continued walking in and out of the lobby. He turned to the receptionist.

"Have my shuttle at the Belfast shipyard ready," He told him.

The receptionist replied, "Of course, _Martin_."

* * *

 **Part 2:**

 **President Bowman - Washington D.C.  
June 14, 2167 15:20:00 UTC**

The President walked onto the stage, raised high off the ground, with the stairway up the old US Capitol building behind them. To the lower front was the main musical band of the Terran Navy. Consisting of mainly brass instruments with an electric guitarist lead and a few woodwinds and strings, they were playing the old song, _The Battle Cry of Freedom_. Its lyrics had since been changed for the modern time, but it's meaning held true, as far as what the Terrans' thought it was anyway. The choir, closest to the crowd, finished singing the last verse and chorus.

 _We will welcome to our number,_

 _The loyal, true and brave,_

 _Shouting the Battle Cry of Freedom!_

 _And although they may be alien,_

 _Not a one shall be a slave_

 _Shouting the Battle Cry of Freedom!_

 _..._

 _Terra, Forever!_

 _Hurrah! Lads, Hurrah!_

 _Down with the Damned! And Up towards the Stars!_

 _For we'll rally around the flag,_

 _Lads, we'll rally once again._

 _Shouting the Battle Cry of Freedom!_

As the President arrived on the main stage, they switched to the old traditional _Hail to the Chief_.

To the left and right of the President, sitting down behind him on the first row, were several key figures. From the front three seats on the stage right were Vice-President Dewey Pierce, Batarian Confederation President Ja'hal Derik, Quarian Fleet Ambassador Miri'Ghirn. To his stage left were Fleet Admiral Andrew Roland, House Speaker Anita Goyle, and Senate Majority Leader Donnell Udina.

In the next three rows up were several prominent members and guests, heavily obscured from the camera. They included General Williams, Congresswoman Weatherman, Congressman Guzman, Congressman Kelso, Senator Carlson, Fleet Admiral Hackett, Quarian Conclave Head Xen, Admiral Junius, Founder Madison, Founder Ghali, and guest D'Gona.

As the song nearly finished, Bowman stared into the huge crowd below. The Mall was full and packed tight with spectators. Though the majority was still humans who either lived in the vicinity or made the last minute trip from the colonies; many non-humans coming from different races rescued from the war and Quarians stepping planet side were mixed evenly amongst the crowd to witness the event. The crowd extended from the foot of the Congress building to the reflection pool of the Lincoln Memorial. It was crammed pack at just over two million, the crowd divided twice along Seventh Street and Twelfth Street. But it continued afterwards from the Washington Monument to the Lincoln Memorial.

The song finished and the crowd calmed down, wanting to hear what they believed to be the most powerful man in the galaxy had to say. Along Constitutional and Independence Avenue, hologram screens lined the side of buildings or trees for all to see the President up close. In front of Bowman, two holo projectors appeared to display his speech to them, being visible to him but invisible to the crowd. He grabbed the podium and leaned forward to begin his speech.

" _My fellow Terrans…"_

The crowd roared as people chanted out patriotic phrases and waved their little flags. He took a moment to notice the loud echo from the speakers, but then continued.

" _Today is a very special day. Not just for us, the human race. But for the United Terran Federation, the Terran People!"_

The crowd got louder, but Bowman raised his hand calmly, the whole crowd quickly responding to it.

" _Just ten days ago, nearly all of us saw the term 'Terran' as a synonym for 'human'. We have been alone, united in a cause that might have been an empty promise that kept us together._

 _But in these past few days, we all learned, we are not alone. The great cause that unites us, that drives us, that has brought us to the pinnacle of creation, is not some idealist vision of the future. It is the key, the very catalyst to a better galaxy!"_

He paused and waited, the crowd cheering before it calmed down and waited on his words.

" _But first, a word from House Speaker Goyle…"_

He turned to Goyle and gestured for her to walk to the state. They walked past each other and exchanged seats, Goyle taking the podium.

" _If I may, a dramatic reading. A poem, a story, of the human race. Of the land we stand on, of the ideals of the Federation, and the Terran People. A message to you all, and to all the galaxy to hear:_

' _Keep, ancient lands, old powers and orders, your storied pomp!_

 _Cries she, Mother Gaia, with silent lips but strong posture._

 _Give us your tired, your poor_

 _Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free_

 _The wretched refuse of your teeming worlds._

 _Send these, the homeless, the enslaved, the forgotten, tempest-tossed to us.'_

She turned and gestured her arm to everything behind her.

" _We, the Terran People, lift our lamps beside the golden door!'"_

The crowd cheered on as Goyle looked out, amazed but not surprised by the reaction from her words. The humans in the crowd were in a loud banter, though the aliens took a moment to understand her words before joining in with them. Long ago, she was a shy and timid woman that somehow found her way into the Marines and served with Bowman. Now she was a statesman. Her words were stronger and deadlier than the rifle she once wielded. She looked into the crowd, the refuse of the galaxy, with an opportunistic smile.

" _These are the words of an old nation you all stand on now. A land that welcomed the refuse of humanity. From that 'refuse' emerged a powerful nation, its ideals now the Terran ideals._

 _I have been privileged to meet many of you these past few days, standing in this crowd below. You look onto us, Humanity, as a galactic power like this Council of old. Humanity has achieved so much. We have advanced and grown smart and wise. We are wise enough to know… that we know nothing._

 _Today we are here to welcome two new races into the Federation. But we are also here to welcome you, all of you, to be one of us. You… us… We, are the refuse and the rejects of the galaxy. But together, as the united Terran People. We are the strongest in the galaxy. Together, the galaxy is ours!"_

She stepped down as the crowd cheered wildly at her proclamation. She walked back as Bowman returned to the podium. He gestured once to more silence the crowd and continued, looking to the side where Derik and Miri stood.

" _We have all seen the great crimes and tragedy that infects this great galaxy we call home. Only just ten days ago, we the Federation, by the very compulsion of our ideals and our individual morality, went to war against the Hegemony. This war of liberation brought down a tyrant government, not seen by Humanity for more than a century. A corrupt entity that had brought disgrace to the Batarians. By bringing an end to the suppression to an otherwise spiritual race, we now welcome them to a freedom never before seen."_

As many cheered during his pause, Bowman thought about those words, turning his head to the Batarian. He remained tense just being remotely close to one. He had explored enough of the galaxy to have the young eager explorer beaten out of him, the events locked away with everything else. When he found the Batarians, it scorched away any remaining optimism and left a scourge ready to boil over. They were a tool for his presidency as far as he cared, but he knew letting that go, though difficult, was for the best. Fortunately, very few knew of it, so he had no pressure to do it anytime soon. He had larger concerns to deal with.

" _Many of you here today were freed by our proud men and women fighting to bring freedom and liberty across the galaxy. Many here, once slaves or political dissidents, are now free to live the true life that the Terran People are gladly willing to fight for._

 _But there are those who are also here today, who were once lost in the depth of space, cast out to die in the harsh coldness of the void, alone and forgotten. I say to the Quarian race; you are not alone anymore; you are no longer nonexistent. The Terran People welcome you, as a friend and now as fellow brothers and sisters."_

Cheers rose from all over the crowd, a clear chant arose, as many Quarians and humans shouted 'Keelah Se'lai'. The millions of heads in the crowd bobbed about as they chanted.

" _Many have asked why the Founders made the Federation as a nation that would welcome all life to join its banner. Many have asked why we should bear the burden of uplifting the galaxy, before we even knew there was anyone out there. The reason is simple, my fellow humans and my fellow Terrans._

 _Because whether or not there are others in the galaxy, we, the great nation of freedom who carries the banner of liberty that was built on the grounds of democracy and held together by the idea of equality, are the only ones able to take up such a cause._

 _As many here learned so recently and for those here that have known them for all their lives, there already exist a government known as the Citadel Council._ "

He smiled a bit with contempt as some booed. He knew the Terran nation was the only one to take up the cause. But only a few knew what that cause actually was. But he continued to press on his line of topic.

" _But as we see across the galaxy, we only see where they have failed. They abandoned their own people to slavers, they allowed crime and piracy across their space, and they gladly let a member race in need of help die in space, while having committed genocide on numerous occasions! They call themselves the galactic order, but they cannot bring order to the galaxy. They call themselves civil, but they won't put in the effort to bring civility to the galaxy. They call themselves the might of the galactic government! But as you all saw from the footage, their ships simply can't be compared to ours._

 _I say this. The Council has clearly failed themselves and those under them. We however have shown the might of our success and the right of our cause. Our goals, clear as day. Where there is tyranny, we shall bring democracy. Where there is slavery, we shall bring freedom. Where there is oppression and persecution, we shall bring liberty and equality. The United Terran Federation will not stand by as the galaxy falls. If they fall, we fall. If we fail, they fail. Every human, every Terran, by the ideals that define us has taken up the cause and is gladly willing to fight for it. Today, we welcome two new races into the Federation. They join us in this great cause. A cause that transcends race, blood, or whatever divides us._

 _I now would like to invite the President of the Batarian Confederation to give his words on joining the Federation."_

Bowman left the podium, exchanging seats with the Batarian President he had placed to run the occupied territory. Bowman nodded at him, trying to genuinely smile, though his inner vile made the smile minimal at best. Ja'Hal simply nodded otherwise, not sure of what to take from Bowman's weak smile and stood up to the podium. Though the crowd was nowhere near as loud, many cheered none the less. To many humans in the crowd, they found the cheering by many liberated slaves unusual. What they didn't not know was that Ja'Hal was a political activist for massive reform, managing to get his name familiarized with nearly everyone in the Hegemony, before they grew tired of his anti-party rhetoric and threw him in prison. If he was any less influential in the old Hegemony, he wouldn't be alive today.

Ja'Hal took in the view of the crowd. He remembered the large political rallies when he was once the right hand of the Chairman. The people gathered to cheer on their cause. The humans that gathered yelled out in cheer throughout the ceremony, with a fervor that rivaled any rally he had ever seen. To see a people so dedicated to a cause he fought for validated his efforts. But he felt the human Terrans followed it with the same blind devotion as those for the Hegemony, which was equally as dangerous. Fascism takes many forms, that he knew too well. But the lesser of two evils he would gladly take if need be. He began his speech, his scratchy, low pitch voice of an aged freedom fighter resonating through the speakers.

" _Thank you, President Bowman, and on behalf of the Free Batarian Confederation and the free Batarian people, I would like to thank the entire Terran nation for what they have done for my race._

 _In the past, the Hegemony, in their idiotic and tyrannical ways, brought disgrace to our race. Because of our corrupt government, we were looked down upon by the rest of the galaxy. They saw us as savages and slavers. And when the Hegemony persecuted their own people along with those from across the galaxy, do you know what the Citadel Council did? They sat on their thrones, claiming they brought order to the galaxy; as billions of people, theirs and ours, suffered!_

More cheering came from the crowd, with both aliens and humans cheering over the faults of the Council.

" _As it stood, the crimes of our government and the disgrace of my people was doomed to continue. Our people were oppressed, our culture was corrupted, our faith was destroyed, and our was reputation gone. That is, until the intervention of the Federation. Unlike the Council, you, the proud Terran People, are dedicated to your ideals, and in what is worth more than all the credits in the galaxy, have a willingness not only to take action but to promote it. You saved billions from slavery, and you crushed the evil leech of the Batarians that was the Hegemony._

 _Today, the Batarian race dedicates itself to bringing about a new image to its people. No longer will we be the evil race that plagues the Terminus. No longer will we be looked down on as criminals. Today, my race can return to our true roots, as a spiritual people lost centuries ago. By my decree from the new government, to the billions here today, we, the Batarians, formally apologize for the slavery of millions of people. And on behalf of the Confederation and Batarian race, we accept entrance into the United Terran Federation. Shall we look forward to a more enlightened future. Thank you."_

The crowd cheered louder as every Terran in the crowd welcomed a new race into the Federation. Officially however, they would be the second non-Founder race to join, since having them on as the first one was at best controversial, given that the humans technically conquered the Batarians to begin with. Bowman sat up and exchanged places again, avoiding contact this time. Taking the podium, the cheering lowered but was still loud for all to hear his words.

" _We thank the Batarian President and accept their entrance to the Federation. For here, in our great nation, they shall be safe in a land that is free. And for many others here today, the brave souls that survived against all odds, shall have a home among us all. I now would like to welcome up the next race to join the Federation, please welcome Ambassador and former Head Admiral of the Quarian race, Miri Ghirn Vas Morlin!"_

As they quickly exchanged places, Bowman looked at the well-aged Quarian as Miri took her position at the podium. He was sure they had met one before, but it escaped his mind, maybe on Aratoht it was. Just thinking of living in a suit made him dizzy, and he enjoyed long space walks. The crowd continued their cheering as she stood there. From across the crowd, many Quarians cheered on their famous admiral, a hero of the Fleet. Her closest confidant, Admiral Zaren'Vali, was watching from the liveship _Rayya_ which was docked over Mars. She spoke, almost too quickly as some nervousness nearly caused her to stutter.

" _Hello everyone. On behalf of the Quarian race and the Migrant Fleet, thank you for having us here today."_

She paused for a moment to take in the crowd. Loud cheering from across the Capital Mall came at her, and it struck her that this was for her. She had never seen so many people, thinking about all the races here below her. It really was true, she thought. The millions of humans here looked on at her in awe. She was the person to change their idea of the galaxy. She thought of how they used their unique idea of nationalism to just understand and comprehend her existence. She felt just the same as a week ago. They were a miracle; one she was not going to let go to waste. After a moment to take in the view, she spoke. This time, her voice was that of an elder and long lived woman that had seen the galaxy for all its good and bad. She grabbed the attention of the millions below her, and the billions across her new nation.

" _Weeks ago, no one in the Fleet could have imagine that such an event like this would occur. As your and now our President pointed out, we were once a proud people. We had dreams of uplifting ourselves, but fell from grace._

 _But when we were in need, when we asked for help from the Council, who preached that we all should help one another, they casted us out for our failings. The only thing they cared about was helping themselves. When we needed help, they casted us out to roam the stars. They sentenced us to our extinction!"_

The crowd grew loud as they chanted unflattering things about the Council. Miri thought to herself when she loudly said those words. She felt like how Zaren was, preaching with self-righteousness. Maybe he did have a point to his constant rants after all _._

" _For three hundred years, my people roamed the stars. We were outcasts. The galaxy saw us as thieves and beggars. Many times, our fleet, the only home we have ever known, came close to destruction. If it had happened… I doubt anyone would have cared. Sometimes, even I wished that it actually did. To spare us all from the stigma as the 'thieves' and 'beggars' of galaxy. As suit rats!_

 _But after living this long life, to see this moment, makes all the pain that I and the Quarian race suffered absolutely worth it. For now, as I stand in front of this crowd, in the vid screen of billions across the galaxy, I now know. We now have friends in this harsh galaxy, who want and appreciate us. As the representative of the Quarian Migrant Fleet, I accept the invitation for entrance into the United Terran Federation."_

She lifted her right hand over her face mask and gently took hold of it. She gradually pulled it, popping it open and removing her mask entirely. As she placed it down on the podium, she stared out into the crowd and took a deep breath of the air, showing her face for all to see, a tear coming down her cheek. Across the nation, including the Fleet, there were gasps over the great symbolism of the gesture. In the crowd, many Quarians were in shock over the gesture, the rest were silent. A majority of the humans in the crowd, deeply confused, asked any nearby Quarian or alien about what was so shocking.

" _And I breathe in the air of my new home. As Miri'Ghirn Vas Earth! Keelah Se'lai!"_

The crowd, including the humans who were quick this time to recognize the gesture, cheered loudly as she proclaimed the Terran world as her home. Every one behind her stood up as well, clapping as she reinstalled her mask and sat back down.

After a moment, President Bowman walked back up to the podium. He waited as the crowd continued, knowing that's billions were watching this event, this moment in history. He even had the event specially recorded to be sent through a QEC probe that was hidden in the Citadel a few days ago. The moment this ceremony ended, everyone else in the galaxy, from Omega to Mars, the Council themselves to the seediest bars of the galaxy, would know of the Federation, the Terran people, and of their resolve.

" _Earth… Such a place._

 _But Terra... Such a word._

 _In our old language, it means Earth. But today, and since the founding of the Federation, it means more. Terra is an idea._

 _For Humanity, it is a promise of something great. We head out towards the star. We left Earth to find Terra._

 _For the Batarians, it is a place where they can be free, to restore their faith and bask in liberty's gleam._

 _For the Quarians, it's the return to a home. As we wandered out, they settled back, a place to call their own little walled garden._

 _And for you all. Turian, Salarian, Asari and many more. Abandoned. Lost. Nothing. We, the Terran people, shall guide you to a new home, a place free, a place to start again._

 _I look out and see, closer are we all to Terra._

 _Today, the Federation is no longer some human nation. On this day, the Federation is reborn anew. Today, the galaxy will all now know. We are the United Terran Federation! We are the greatest power of the galaxy. Where the Council has failed, we rise to the cause. United, we shall bring our vision to the galaxy. Together, we shall save the galaxy! God save and long live the Federation!"_

* * *

 **Part 3:**

 **D'gona and Goyle - Starbase 1  
A few days before the entrance into the Federation  
June 8, 2167 18:00:00 UTC**

"And these are?"

D'gona and Goyle walked down the hallway of the starbase, well decorated and furnished for the orbital office of the Presidency. They were in a closed off section, but an hour earlier she was being given a tour by the Speaker of the House in a public area. Many turned to stare at the blue, human like alien. When a reporter got ahold of them, Goyle said she was a 'rescued' Council Diplomat on Khar'shan. But they knew better.

"These are some of the head founders of the Federation." Goyle pointed at each of the four portraits on the wall, their guards nearby. "Garnett Madison. Henry Ghali. Shui Jiang. And Katya Avdotya."

"They must be heroes to your people. Legends of the past. Those to be remembered for their work."

Goyle chuckled, "You make them out to be dead heroes of a time long ago. They are all perfectly alive. Madison is a local mayor on Pacifica; Ghali and Jiang are in a retirement home in Florida and Beijing, respectively, and Avdotya… I'm not sure actually. I'd presume she's fighting a space bear or something on Noveria. Russians..." She turned her head to each side and looked around, seeing no one else. She then gestured for her guards to leave, leaving them alone in the hallway.

"I didn't think I would see you again, Sargent," said D'gona.

"It's Speaker now. And Major before that." They continued down the hallway, the guards giving them space some distance behind them. "I didn't think I would see you again either, Dorsi."

"Thirty plus years must be long for your race?"

"Five minutes seems like an eternity for us."

"I thought you lived long lives?"

Goyle chuckled, "Our attention span is on the opposite end of that."

"I wondered, Goyle, who you all were. You and Bowman came from nowhere and left in the same way."

"Well, I could say something similar. I doubt the _Clark_ would have actually escaped. With what has happen in the past few days, you're going to be here a long while. Though it is nice to finally introduce ourselves properly."

D'gona chuckled and sighed, "I doubt I can return again."

"What was your job with the Council?"

"Psychologist."

"I wouldn't consider a worker's visa. They're a dime a dozen here."

She smiled, "Can human doctors mentally interface and meld with their patients?"

Goyle turned to look at her, disbelief on her face before she broke into a laugh. "What, a … Vulcan mind meld? Be sure to, uh, note that on the application."

They arrived at the end of the hall, a double door at the end with secret service guards on either side. Goyle quickly dismissed them and they took point with the others, keeping their distance as they watched the perimeter.

Goyle took a deep breath and sighed before continuing. "Hmm..."

"A thought on your mind?"

"First Contact…"

"Your other captain was right. Humanity thinks this is First Contact. But you know that isn't true?"

"This isn't the preferred scenario either. But I think we're on the same page that this is better than what happen thirty years ago."

"Same… page? And the story of who I am?"

Goyle scratched her head, "The actually, surviving, diplomats are safe on one of our ships. The Hegemony thought holding them hostage would work to hold us off. They thought wrong..."

"And the Council? Am I to witness your preparation to war?"

"Is war inevitable? We beat the Batarians, but there's a difference between beating down the sickly kid and the leaders of the playground."

"You tell me, Goyle."

"You can ask Bowman yourself. Here we are."

They entered at the outer office, where the secret service stood at guard posts outside the inner office. After entering into the waiting room, Goyle gestured for her to continue into Bowman's office. The secretary rang her in, the doors opening to Bowman's response. D'gona walked in a partially lit room that allowed for a panoramic view of the human home world.

* * *

 **Dorsi and Jonathan**

Bowman turned, his mouth opening slightly as he stared at her. _Williams was right, that crazy bastard was right_. He then stood up slowly.

"Dorsi."

"Jonathan."

He walked around his desk and stood in front of her. He held his arms open, but froze with a confused look on his face. She giggled and proceeded to sit down. He dropped his arms and leaned back on his desk.

She smiled and spoke, "Jonathan Bowman. Captain of the _Excalibur_."

"Dorsi... D'gona. The ragtag leader of a lucky group of escaped slaves."

"I guess we've changed since then," she sat up and stared at him. "You're a president? Do humans like voting for war heroes?"

He chuckled, "Hero? I was an explorer. That's what they think of me… so did I at one point." He turned to look out the window to Earth. "They think I am the famed explorer. Who mapped the relay systems that are the bedrock of the Federation."

She looked at him, puzzled, "Then who are you really, Bowman?"

Bowman chuckled and turned to her. "I could ask you the same question. You saved the _Clark_."

"I am… was the Head Psychologist for Citadel Security."

He crossed his arms as he raised an eyebrow. "A doctor? Was that what you were before…"

"No, I… I had a far different career." For a moment, D'gona was speechless. But she then continued with guilt in her voice. "If you knew, I don't think you would have saved me."

Bowman stood up and raised his voice, "What those bastards did was monstrous! I wouldn't wish it on even my worst enemies! Hell, not even on them! But I don't regret a single moment of burning that planet. I would do it again if I could. Those damn four eyed savages…"

His breathing was heavy and fast as he stared at the wall; he arched forward, slowly collapsing. D'gona stood up, quick enough to recognize what was happening. She grabbed onto his hands with hers and stared at him.

"Jonathan!"

With one last intake, he snapped out. The first thing he saw was her calm blue face in his. He stared back, seeing the same face of the desperate woman who pleaded him to save them years ago. His first movement was to smile and chuckle. Bowman realized, he was now asking to be saved by her.

"Bowman?"

"Dorsi… they told you of who we are, right?"

"I have a complete report, supposedly. Such a young race…"

"You don't know the half of it." He let go of her hands and sat down in a guest seat. She followed and sat next to him as he thought. "We are so young. So naive. When I was a kid, the Terran Federation did not even exist. We weren't even united yet."

D'gona nodded, "And yet, here you are."

Bowman pointed out the window, the starbase having since rotated into a view of the open stars. "We looked up. We saw the stars. We put all our efforts to go… there." He then turned to her. "My father was a scientist. He never lived to see his work change Humanity. But I did. I wanted to be an explorer. I lived to see, to explore what was… there."

"And?"

"We were optimistic. We know more than we ever should… Actually, it's classified. Just like when I first met the Batarians, and you. But when I did, the man who dreamt to go where no man had gone before was dead."

She looked at him, trying to understand the man, "Bowman. What did you see? What do you know?"

"Know?" He thought for a moment. He was talking to one of the greatest secrets of the Terran Government. She wasn't the first, the most important, or the most dangerous. But to him, he knew she was going to be the first of many to be revealed. "I know this galaxy isn't the fun, happy place I once knew it to be from stories. When you lose faith that you can do anything in this huge galaxy, it removes the meaning of why you bother to head out into the stars. But Dorsi... Even though I couldn't save everyone, at least I was able to save you."

She looked at him, puzzled, "How am I so important?"

He paused, thinking of how he could explain, "You are my silver lining. Proof that I can… could do some good. That my efforts, Humanity's efforts were not in vein." He pointed over to a flotilla of ships in the distance, casting their silhouette as they stood in place in front of the sun. "When we first met, we were weak. Young and fragile. Today, you're witnessing the rise of the Terrans to the galactic stage."

A thought hit his mind. Bowman stood up and grabbed her hand, pulling her towards the viewport with sudden excitement, slowly losing himself. "We are the new galactic power! Our fleets are larger; our might is greater! We can do what I couldn't…"

With a grin on his face, he breathing became heavy and quick once more. D'gona became worried, quickly realizing he was having a flashback as he tried to finish his thought.

"Bowman…"

He turned to her and grabbed on to her arms, "We can save them, Dorsi! Everyone. We are the key! I can save everyone. We crushed the slavers. Now we can save them, everyone from, from…"

He took a step back and lost his footing. Then he stumbled back and slammed into the wall before sliding down to the floor. D'gona kneeled down and held him as he murmured. She tried to snap him out of it, but he continued murmuring, his eyes wide open as he stared emptily at her. Bowman then grabbed her arms as she held on to his shoulders and spoke with a crazed voice.

"Dorsi, Dosri!"

"What, Jonathan?"

He moved his face close to hers, "We have to save them. Where are they, Dorsi?"

"What, where are who?"

"My crew, damn it!" He tried to stand up, but he stumbled as he kept looking out into the room. "Where are these alien savages holding them? I won't leave until I rescue them!"

He continued to ramble, reliving his mission decades ago. D'gona continued to try and snap him out, but he sank further into his memory. As Bowman continued his panic induced flashback, D'gona grabbed ahold of his hand and aligned her other hand along the side of his face. She pressed down her fingers on each nerve point as she tried talking to him.

"Damn it Dorsi, what are you doing? We have to save them!"

She spoke, employing her skills to calm him down as she spoke softly and caringly. "We will, Jonathan. Now clear your mind…"

"C-clear my mind? What the hell…"

"Clear your mind and focus. They're all depending on you," She said, though it was Bowman who really needed it.

He continued hyperventilating, "Ok… Clearing my mind."

She closed her eyes, "That's good, good… Now…" She then opened them, her crystal blue eyes now replaced by the blackness of the void itself.

"Embrace eternity!"

In a sudden pulse, their minds and thoughts merged into a single frame of perspective. The images of the past began to surface, vivid as the moment they occurred. For both of them, the years flashed back as she tried to control her mental merge and find the source of Bowman's trauma.

In the first memory, they both saw through Bowman's point of view, him holding a traumatized captured officer in his arms. His eyes, stuck wide open, stared straight into him before Bowman looked away to see the room, his Marines at point as numerous dead Batarians laid on the ground. He then looked back down at the now empty eyes and raised his hand to close them, before reaching for his sidearm.

The vision then shifted, an image of a dead Batarian tied to a chair fading into focus with two large, ghastly bullet wounds where his left eyes should be. The view turned to another slaver tied to a chair. The vision was devoid of all sound, but it was clear that the Batarian begged for his life before a younger Goyle in her assault uniform bashed him in the face with her rifle. As the memory unfolded, Bowman moved about, growing disgruntled. He then pulled his sidearm out, an old M-11. He proceeded to empty his clip of 9 millimeters, shooting him first in the knees before he worked his way up, a round in each leg, before several in the abdomen and finally chest, the slaver flailing about as each round burrowed into him. Goyle then held his head still as Bowman pressed the heated barrel against each eye.

The vision shifted once more, the bridge of the _Excalibur_ in view. From another angle, Bowman's back faced them as he stood in front of his command chair. Next to him was another badly beaten Batarian, with Pierce and Goyle holding him up by each arm. They all turned to the front of the bridge, a view of the planet as the ship flew away. As the remaining cruisers were destroyed by the _Excalibur_ , a final volley of torpedoes was launched. Each then impacted, the massatanium refiners in each one turning the full energy released of each warhead into a massive explosion. They spread out across the planet until they joined together to burn the whole world in one full explosive wave.

The vision, the memory was silent. But then, they heard a voice as the Batarian fought about and snarled at Bowman, demanding to know who he was. Bowman calmly turned to him as the others did their best to hold him back. But Bowman got up to his face and spoke, his voice far from his own.

" _Who are we? Why we… are your very nightmare. We are beyond your inferior comprehension. We are the unholy saint from the bowels of the void. We are the herald of your destruction!_

Bowman quickly reached for Goyle's knife on her combat vest and quickly unsheathed it. Before she could notice, Bowman plunged it into the Batarian's chest. As he coughed up blood onto Bowman's blue naval uniform, he continued.

" _We are death in mortal form. We are…"_

He stopped in between and stared at the body of the dead governor of a dead colony. He pulled the knife out and was now speechless, the vision silent as he stared at the dead in calm horror. He then gestured for them to get rid of the body via the airlock. As they dragged him away, the vision looked to its left and right, a Turian and a Quarian beside the viewer were shocked at what they saw, looking onward in horror. They all then looked forward to Bowman as he slowly advanced towards them with remorse on his face, dropping the knife onto the ground before speaking in his regular voice.

" _Dorsi… you shouldn't have seen that…"_

* * *

The vison ended, their minds now rushing ahead as bits of memory from both of them surfaced with sudden clarity for a brief moment before returning to the obscured realm of their minds.

With a sudden flash, their bond ended as their minds separated. It was followed quickly in the flesh as they both regained control of their bodies. D'gona fell back and landed at the side of his desk as Bowman practically crawled up the wall in a fright before sliding back down in exhaustion and confusion.

The commotion created enough noise to draw the attention of his guards on the other side of the wall. They quickly entered, but Bowman, on the ground as he rested his head against the wall quickly yelled at them to get out. After they left and sealed the door, he looked to D'gona, both of them exhausted and gasping for air from the experience.

"What… what the hell was that?"

She sat up and leaned back on the side of the desk across from him. "It is called 'melding'. An…" she stretched her neck and continued, "It's an ability of my people to merge two people's mind together into one. As a psychologist, it's a last resort to understanding a patient's mind."

He unbuttoned his shirt to let more air in, "How so?"

"Normally, the act of joining is… intimate. If done forcefully, it can be rather intrusive as we both saw."

He turned to her, "Those memories… I was sure I was right for what I did… but I became a monster, just the same as them. I slaughtered my way through to try and save them. Then I took my anger and wiped an entire colony out..." He curled up and leaned towards her, "Do you know how many people I killed out of vengeance?"

D'gona thought about the answer. "There must have been hundreds of thousands."

Bowman shook his head before bursting out in a laugh. "No… You heard the news. We just won a war against them. We conquered them! We bombarded dozens of their largest colonies. How many do you think we killed in what nobody knows was but a delayed retaliation for what I saw? Hundreds of millions? Billions?"

She spoke out, but her familiar calm tone was gone, "Some were slavers, Hegemony aristocrats. They deserved their fate."

"But what of the millions that weren't? As much as I would like to think it, butchering people for the crimes of a few isn't right. The answer to ending slavery isn't genocide."

"But ending it is what matters most!" she said with anger in her voice. "You killed those who… dehumanized your crew, me, and thousands more. It doesn't matter who gets caught in the crossfire."

Bowman backed up and leaned off the wall to stand back, staring at her in shock. She stood up as well and stared back, eyes locked with him as she sat up on his desk. He spoke.

"My God. How can you say that? When I nuked that planet, you looked at me in horror. How can you now agree with what I did now?"

"Why? Because! Because…" She initially was yelling at him, but stopped, suddenly speechless. She kept mouthing the last word on her mind, before she looked down and shook her head. Her voice grew calmer, sadder. "I saw what you did. I remembered what you did, why you did so." She looked up and began to chuckle.

He tilted his head, puzzled and bewildered by her answer and response. She moved towards the viewport and he followed, both of them now staring at Earth as it came back into view from the spinning station.

"What I did?"

She turned her head to him, standing tall and postured once more with her hands behind her as she looked. She spoke calmly once more, "You're right, Bowman. I was horrified, scared of what you did, of what you and the Terran humans could do. But you were clearly young, eager, not really knowing wrong from right. You were not knights in shining armor, as your ship's name suggested. You were a battered captain, a shocked crew of aliens that had just made First Contact. You saved us from that hellhole and we thanked you with anonymity."

"I-I… I see."

"The others, Bowman. They were tortured souls. They let what happened be forgotten. They deserved to leave that past behind. But not me… I had over thirty years to comprehend what happen. I saw how you killed those bastards. I saw how you burned them away…" she looked away, "I should have shared that same fate."

He quickly responded, "What! How… how could you think that? I remember what you told me on that planet. Two hundred years in bondage! You endured horrors longer than the human lifespan doubled! What makes you say you deserved to burn?"

She locked eyes with him, trying to deduce what of Bowman she still didn't know. He didn't get much from the meld, anything not concerning the incident was beyond him. But she had learned more about the man than maybe even he himself knew. He countered her answer, still confused but not yielding.

"I know all about you. On my way here, I read from your codex of who you are. An explorer of the galaxy; you explored more of the stars in your youth than the Council in the past thousand years. A hero of your great war, this 'Revival'. You killed millions of your own to usher in a golden age for Humanity. You are a man whose culturally branded presence made him the leader of what is now the most powerful race in the galaxy.

"You can't believe everything on Wikipedia. Any idiot can edit it."

She chuckled and then snarled, "But from the meld, you seem haunted by what happened. You should be celebrating it! Me? No… I'm four hundred years old. What do you think I did before? I was no doctor, no healer. I didn't try to think about it then, but now it seems so fresh. My damnation by the Goddess."

He crossed his arms and turned to her as he sighed. "What Dorsi? What the hell makes you think you deserved to burn with the slavers?"

"Who better than one? I was a mercenary. Hell, I was one of the founders of one of the deadliest groups in the galaxy! We dealt in everything! Drugs, contraband, smuggling, assassination, raiding… and the slave trade." She looked at Bowman, surprised by his expression of only mild confusion. "I have taken many lives, and ruined many more. A hundred years!" She began to chuckle about it, though Bowman simply stared at her. "I spent a hundred years, the prime of my youth doing as I pleased... And in the end, my partner sold me out and dumped me in the cargo hold of some slave ship that headed to the Hegemony."

He simply shook his head, "I… didn't know."

She laughed at his response and gave her own, "I often wondered how much Jona got for my ass. You should have seen me two hundreds years ago, Bowman. I would have fetched a good price."

"Two hundred years ago, we hadn't even landed on our own moon. Two hundred years ago, we just learned to fly faster than sound. Two hundred years ago, we had a war that wouldn't be rivaled until after we unified."

"Well, don't think I waited that long to be saved by you. I… I accepted it as my fate. As punishment by the Goddess," She quickly chuckled after saying that before continuing, "But you are nothing less than proof that destiny can be overwritten, that one can defy what is essentially set in stone. You, Bowman, from what did you call it? 'A race of apes from a pale blue dot'?"

Bowman stared at her for a moment, then smiled as he turned to look at Earth. "For this blue dot, I was willing to commit genocide. In the name of a species of apes that still views itself as the center of the universe, we have fleets and soldiers ready to conquer the galaxy. It does seem we exist to spite the orders that be."

D'gona turned to him and smile as well, "It does, doesn't it? In these last thirty-five years, if I wasn't trying to understand why I was pulled away from my hell, it was trying to understand who pulled me out."

"Well, as far as I care for fate, this is it," He turned to her and opened his arms up as he grinned, "I didn't think I could keep going… I felt weaker by the day. But to have you here, Dorsi. Whether we are the knights in shining armor that saved you or bandits that stole you, that's for you to decide. You're more than my silver lining. You're my proof that we can do some good in this galaxy."

"You made up your mind, but for me, that may take some time to decide myself." She smiled and giggled before taking a step closer to him, grabbing his hands and moving them inward. "Though I may have it. I don't think I have a job with the Council anymore."

He looked into her eyes, then turned his head to the void, her head following his, "You're welcome to stay. You won't be alone."

They stared out into the void for a moment, the Terran home world beginning to leave the view. A few ships then popped out from the spherical wormhole from hyperspace, large rectangular troop vessels filled with either returning soldiers or refugees from the war. As they flew by, another vessel entered into view, a Quarian frigate escorted by two Terran light cruisers, their appearance marked with the characteristic trail of light catching up with the ship of mass effect or warp configurations.

"Earth is no shining world. She is a shelter, a refuge where we had wiped clean the past."

"The remains… refuse of the galaxy. What could the Terran race gain from them?"

Bowman chuckled, "The Council never faced a group like us. We the Terran People. A single race can be a threat. Humans can be as bad as those Rachni or Krogan I read about. But a united Terra? Why Dorsi. We are a _scourge_ to be reckoned with."

D'gona smiled. But then a thought crossed her mind and her face dropped as she descended into thought. "A scourge to be reckoned with… _the unholy saint from the bowels of the void… the herald of your destruction…_ Bowman?"

"Yes, Dorsi?"

"Those words. You never said them." She thought for a moment, paying attention to the last things she saw in her meld. "When we melded, when we were on your ship. You never said those words… yes."

"What's wrong, Dorsi?"

She closed her eyes, calmed her mind and processed what she saw and heard one more time. Bowman looked on in wonder. D'gona then came out. A new thought crossed her mind, one with as strong a presence as the day they met, but far more prominent in Bowman's mind.

"Who… who are the Reapers?"

His face dropped as well, his mouth slowly opening in shock before finally, his own words came to him.

"Dorsi… you shouldn't have _heard_ that…"

* * *

 **Part 4:**

 **The Council - Citadel Chamber  
June 14, 2167 18:00:00 UTC**

"You're Vista!"

"You're Millennium!"

"Take that back, you son of a bitch!"

As the Council watch the new video, the AIs continued to bicker, ending with a slap fight as they insulted each other. The video finally ended, the Council in shock of what they had just seen. Tevos turned to the AIs and spoke first.

"Goddess. You annexed the Quarians and Batarians into your government!"

"That speech had a lot of anti-Council sentiment. Also laced with a lot of usage of the word 'democracy'." said Nerval.

They stopped fighting and turned back to them.

"What? Oh yah, we are the greatest democracy," said Peter, thumping his chest.

"The Asari are a Direct Democracy."

Peter clenched his face, his laughter routine trying to override his avatar, "Oh God, you actually trust the people to make the judgment for your entire race?" They both then burst out in laughter at her. "For a civilization tens of millennia older than us, that's the most naïve thing I have ever heard of."

As they insulted Tevos and the Asari, Sparatus stared at the screen, his talon to his chin as he thought. "Junius… Marcus Junius… No, no, no. Must be someone else…" He interfaced with the screen, trying to rewind the footage to the interview and the President's speech.

"And what of the millions of slaves you rescued?" asked Tevos.

"If we can create peace, they may return home. Or as that Turian said, they can join us."

"I would suggest we sue for peace, Councilors," said Nerval, "With the Batarians and Quarian Migrant Fleet, they could outnumber us. It's clear they can outgun us."

"Actually Councilor Nerval, we already had more ships than you before Contact," said Peter, "We are a very industrious people more than anything else."

Sparatus looked up to him, "How many ships do you have?"

Peter paused, pretending to think about it, before answering casually, "Oh… about seventy five thousand ships. And a lot more of those ships you saw earlier."

"You're lying! No one can have that large of a fleet!"

"Deny it all you want. If we go to war, you'll see it for yourselves." He turned back to Tevos and Nerval. "So shall we meet then?"

Tevos turned to Nerval, who nodded to her to make the arrangement. Though Tevos kept calm, she knew this wasn't going to be easy.

"So be it then." She turned to Peter and Matt, "We request you to inform your leaders that we want to negotiate peace."

Peter clapped his hands, "That is great news. We'll inform them immediately and send you word of a date of when they shall arrive."

Matt nodded, "In the meantime, just stay put. And don't try sending more ships. We'll be reinforcing our borders with our regular ships as well. They won't stand a chance."

Matt suddenly looked up, his attention on something else. He turned to Peter, gesturing to him of the arrival of new commands from the Federation. This time he informed him digitally so the Council couldn't know. Peter turned to him and nodded.

"Excuse us, Councilors. We must be off to attend to other tasks," said Matt.

"Which I guess we will be unable to track you on?" asked Nerval.

"Of course. Just sit tight and everything will be fine… for the most part."

Peter turned to Sparatus, "Oh, and your wife and mistress called. They want to meet you at the same restaurant and time. I recommend you reschedule the two."

"Your mistress has a very nice private ship. It would be unfortunate if something were to happen to it."

Sparatus turned to them, "What?"

Peter smiled, "We'll be in touch."

The holograms quickly disengaged, leaving the Councilors alone once again. Nerval turned to the others.

"I guess we should prepare ourselves. These Terrans are going to expect a warm welcome."

"And why should we bother giving them something like that?" asked Sparatus.

He turned back and pointed out into the void, as wreckage continued to float in the void between the five wards.

"I am here to make peace, Councilors. Not fight a war we cannot win."

* * *

 **Part 5:**

 **General Williams and Admiral Woods  
Day One after the Entrance into the Federation  
June 15, 2167 02:00:00 UTC**

"There is nothing more delicious than a bowl of Shanxi noodle soup!"

"For the last time, Ed. I'm not hungry."

Admiral Woods and General Williams were in Woods' ready room as the _Patton's Charge_ continued its course to the border world. Woods was busy with his fleet deployment of ships along what they just learned was the border of Council space, whom had yet to learn of the strategic entrance into Terran space. Williams however was just glad to be back in his main posting after the war. He had always taken a liking to colony life. Though he could take shore leave to visit his son's family on their own small quaint farm world, he knew he had matters to attend to.

"You have been stationed on this remote, backwater posting since the Revival. Come with me down planet side and enjoy. She's a beautiful world," said Williams as he sat in a guest seat, opposite the desk to Woods.

Woods replied, pointing out his viewport to the relay only a quarter AU from Shanxi, "This is now the main border between the Federation and the Council! That seemingly dormant relay right there could go active at any moment, and thousands of ships could flood in. God help us if those Turian birds try coming through right now!"

"You worry too much," said Williams with a smile, "We have made sure the Council doesn't try anything."

"Oh, so that was 14's plan?"

"Oh come on now. We cannot do all the work for you. Bowman needed to create a back channel to the Council until we meet formally."

Woods shook his head, "I wish he had consulted me on that. We could have sent a more reliable AI, like Chappie, Kelso, or Ramos."

"The ones assigned will do fine…"

The door chime played, a commander on the bridge waiting. Woods allowed him in. He first informed Woods of the new officers boarding the ship. Then he turned to Williams and gave him a military intelligence tablet. As he left, Williams stood up and walked to a corner to read it privately.

The report was far beyond military intelligence. He had it decrypted, using a special quantum entangled hash sequence from the other particle that encrypted it. He knew whom it came from.

 _Report: SOF - #573.132.908 - TWG_

 _To: Echo-Zeus-Whiskey_

 _Alert. Intelligence linking suspicion to Person of Interest 'Broken Ground' has been confirmed. A plot of potential threat to national security is believed to be in the works by their command. POI is en route to Mars and it is of my analysis that they plan to make their next move soon._

 _Agent is en route to intercept and deal with threat. Requesting reinforcements to be ready on stand by for assistance._

 _Beginning next stage of reconnaissance. Will ascertain as to what motive and purpose does the location destination serve to POI's plan._

 _Sign off: Juliet-Hercules-Hotel_

Woods looked over for a moment, wondering what Williams was doing as he stood there, straight and calm as he stared at the screen of that tablet he received. As Williams looked down though, he grew worried inwardly. He thought Averil and his group were a small splinter group. It was clear they were working quicker than he imagined.

The only thing on Mars was the massive Fleet yard above it, and the defense network on the surface. He could see now what they were going to do, and knew he needed to work quickly to stop it. Williams took a step back, ready to spring into action, but stopped as he was about to turn around and walk out of Woods' office.

He remembered the statistics report he read for the entrance of two races into the nation. Though both sides had their strong supporters, most were on the fence, not sure what to think of it. He figured he was being a bit optimistic in the quick acceptance.

If Fredrickson and his group were dealt with now, their presence would go nearly unnoticed by most people. A small terrorist group that came and went under the covering shadow of Section 14 and Federation Intelligence; a veil of ignorance that safe guarded the peace and calm of Terran life. But if they were allowed to come close to succeeding, to have anyone associated with Fredrickson's side become viewed as the extreme radical, he could polarize the nation and get the desired public opinion he wanted from First Contact all along. He had worked too hard now to let his plan go to waste.

Williams continued and walked to the door. Woods turned to him and stood up.

"Where are you rushing off to now?" asked Woods.

"Something came up at Fort Bao on the surface. I better attend to it." He said as he walked over and the door slid open. He turned back to Woods. "Are you sure you don't want to come down?"

"I have my own problems."

Williams smiled, "Of course you do, Admiral. Which reminds me, your new staff admiral should have arrived. Bowman told me he's an alien."

Woods looked at him in confusion, "I was told the Quarian and Free Batarian Admirals were going to the other fleets."

"Well, how do I put it?" In a moment that he considered his first true brilliance of the day, he remembered an old poem of his son's liking. "He is… was, a caged bird now ready to fly once more. _Let the sweet fresh breezes heal and uplift him, as they rove around the girth; Of our lovely mother planet; Of the cool, green hills of Earth_."

Woods stared at him in confusion, "Wait, what do you mean…?"

The door slid close, his ready room empty again. On the main ship over comm, the communications officer on duty made his announcement.

"Attention crew. The _Patton's Charge_ has arrived in the orbital zone of Shanxi. All crew, prepare docking procedures with Outpost Yankee-7.

Woods rubbed his eyes in exhaustion as he looked back his console.

"Christ… that man is going to be the death of me."

Williams continued up the bridge of the Flagship to an elevator _. Introduce his newest agent to Woods, check_. Williams was sure the Turian will find what he was looking for in the First Fleet in due time. He can only hope anyway. But as for his current problem…

He whispered to himself, "Well, Harper. You better put your training to good use."

He scrolled through the tablet and got back to the report he received from him. With a quick press, he deleted the report and fried the hardware. As the doors to a nearby elevator opened, he handed the broken tablet to an ensign, dispensing of it entirely and walked into the elevator by himself. As the door closed, leaving Williams to himself, he felt a sharp pain on his right shoulder from a wound he received on Camala. He clenched his still healing wound as the elevator awaited a command.

"Damn it… I should have picked up something from R&D for this… I can go for soup. Computer, shuttle bay, now!"

* * *

 _Terran Wikipedia_

 _(By the Authority of the Federal Communications Committee, this document has been doctored and monitored in accordance to the 'Orwellian Freedom Act' to ensure non-biased and informative information for the Terran People.)_

 _ **Jonathan Bowman:**_

 _ **6th President of the United Terran Federation**_

 _Assumed Office: September 11, 2164_

 _Vice President: Dewey Pierce_

 _Preceded by: Rizen Lee_

 _ **Military Service**_

 _ **Service:**_ _Terran Navy, Retired;_

 _ **Years of Service:**_ _United Terran Navy (2125-2156); American Space Navy (2122-2125)_

 _ **Rank:**_ _Fleet Admiral (Retired)_

 _ **Battles/Wars:**_

The Great Revival:

 _Sol Blockade_

 _Defense of Washington_

 _Defense of Atlanta_

 _Recapture of Mexico City_

' _Fallen Angel' Deployment_

 _Order Restoration Campaign_

 _ **Awards:**_

 _American Silver Star Medal_

 _Terran Exploration Citation_

 _Terran Exploration Medallion_

 _Terran Ascending Angel Cross 1st Class_

 _Terran Navy Distinguished Service Medal_

 _Terran Navy Cross_

 _ **Personal Details**_

 _ **Born:**_ _Jonathan Scott Bowman; 13 March 2097,_ _Swatara Township, New Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, USNA, Earth (Age: 70)_

 _ **Nationality:**_ _Terran, US American (before Unification)_

 _ **Political Party:**_ _Terran Nationalist, Independent (formally)_

 _ **Residence:**_ _Presidential Manor, Versailles, France, Earth, United Sol_

 _ **Alma Mater:**_

 _University of California, Los Angeles_

 _Terran Naval Academy_

 _Jonathan Bowman is the 6th and current President of the United Terran Federation. Born in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, he lived most of his childhood in Pasadena, California and attended UCLA with a Master's degree in xeno-physics and spatial geometry. He was granted entrance into the American Naval Academy in 2122 and was transferred into the Terran Naval Academy in 2125, graduating fifth in the class of 2125. He then joined the Terran Navy at the rank of Lieutenant 1st Class. In 2129, he was promoted to directly to Commander and was part of the famed 2130s exploration of the greater Beta Quadrant, where he quickly earned the rank of Captain. He is the first US origin Terran to serve as Terran President._

 _Son of famed warp physicist and hyperspace theorist Henry Bowman, he commanded one of the first Terran Hyperdrive ships, the Excalibur. He and his crew were credited with the discovery of the Beta-Sigma Relay network. Though his mission was plagued with numerous disasters during the Off-Relay exploration between the major Beta-Sigma and Beta-Epsilon relays, and the southern Relay expedition, he was credited with the discovery of numerous garden worlds that are now home to billions of Terrans and four Federation states. Numerous colonies have several cities named after him, including the Terra Nova capital of Scott, his middle name. His fame is only second to Jon Grissom's Beta-Epsilon Exploration._

 _During the forties, he was given command of the Sol Fleet during the build up to the Great Revival. When civil order broke down on the home world, he was tasked with the physical and informational blockade of the Sol system as the government relocated to Eden Prime. During the war, he served on aerial attack cruisers in the North American front. At the height of the war, he was tasked with the organization of and clearance to begin deployment of the 'Fallen Angel' Kinetic Strikes, deploying the first wave over the Middle East and the last wave over North America. It and the following order restoration campaign was one of the most controversial acts under his command, placing the entire planet under martial law for several months. However, for his proper and decisive actions, he was given the Distinguished Service Medal and the American Silver Star Medal for the restoration of order in the US. In 2150, he resigned from the Sol Fleet and was made a lecture admiral in the academy._

 _Bowman's popularity on the home world has dropped since then, with many viewing him as a symbol for the viewed increasing intrusion and oppression of the Federation government. He maintains high popularity on the major colonies, many he helped found. In the 2164 election, this carried him the vote for his run for the Presidency with 70% of the electoral vote and 65% of the populist vote. His election marked the largest drop in voter participation in the United Sol, with 30% voting to abstain their mandatory vote. His election also marked the return of former Firmist Party Leader and now Nationalist Jeremy Bishop into politics since 2149, bankrolling his election in one of the most expensive elections in human history._

 _Though not of a political background, he holds heavy sway in the congress. This is believed to be because of his partnerships with key leading figures that once served with him decades earlier. In spite of Nationalist control of Congress, he is at odds with both Nationalists and Firmists over the Militarization Act he helped author years ago. During the first half of his term he fought with his own party to maintain funding for the Terran military. Now after First Contact, he was seen fighting with Firmist leaders to prevent further expansion of the costly Militarization Act…_

 _Last edited 14 June 2167 00:00 UTC_

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

The Terran People are a diverse group,  
And that's before you add aliens into the mix.  
You have your lefts and rights, pro and anti,  
United by a cause

But when the stakes get high,  
Cracks appear.  
Conflict drives us,  
But it can easily kill us as well.

As the nation bask in the light of Sol,  
Let us remember.  
For as Terra stands,  
A shadow lurks just behind her.

Thanks again for reading.  
Keep on following,  
And always feel free to review.

PS

Are you heading to the _Illium Luxury Exposition_ on the Citadel?  
The Terrans won't miss it for all the galaxy.  
They love boat shows!

For when they see a good deal,  
well...  
They just _take_ it!

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

* * *

 _Posted on June 22, 2016 - Beta-read by MoonSword1994_


	12. 11: But she casted a Dark Shadow

**Chapter Eleven: …But she casted a Dark Shadow.**

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

 _"A old, battered Turian_  
 _emerged from slavery,_  
 _to bask in Terra's light._

 _But above him,_  
 _a great shadow shall emerge,_  
 _to eclipse over him."_

Hey everyone.  
Lets begin!

Also, some of you may be wondering,  
"Why are the Marine flag officers 'Marine Admirals',  
not Generals?"

Well, when you're a mighty Space Marine,  
The heroes of the space nation,  
people get jealous.

By people,  
I mean the powerful Space Army and Navy,  
who have no intent to let the Marines overshadow them.

As explained, down below.  
Interservice rivalry,  
at its finest...

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

* * *

 **Part 1:**

 **General Williams - Camala  
Day Five of the Skyllian Blitz  
June 5, 2167 22:00:00 UTC**

"Junius… Hmmm."

Williams continued reading his tablet. He stood at an observation deck aside from the main hangar of the transport ship. He stopped for a moment to look outside as he massaged his sore jaw. For a man who started out in the civilian intelligence sector, he had seen his fair amount of action as he went from intelligence to frontline. As he felt the scar on his face, it reminded him of that fact. But he felt back at home in managing the intelligence of the shadow of the Federation. Outside, the ship was slowly breaking past the atmosphere of Camala, parting the clouds that glowed an orange hue from the sunrise far in the distance.

A corporal walked over to him and saluted.

"General Williams."

He turned to him and saluted back.

"Yes, Corporal?"

"Sir, word from the Captain. We'll be arriving at Hotel in one hour."

"Good. Have my vehicle ready."

"Yes, sir."

Williams turned back to the large viewport, observing the sky, as it grew brighter. He thought for a moment, the view of the sky reminding him of his days before he did the work he did, when he and all of man was a bit younger, reaching into the sky. He thought of his family, his friends, and comrades, the cause he was fighting for. But every second that passed tugged him away from it all. He whispered as he placed his tablet down on a table. He placed one hand on the glass and grabbed onto the small metal cross around his neck, before he looked around.

" _The arching sky is calling…_

 _Spacemen back to their trade…_

 _All Hands, Stand By, Free Falling._

 _And the lights below us fade."_

Williams laughed quietly to himself, reaching for his tablet before he started flicking the tablet into his other hand. He then returned to the screen. On it was a list, with different names and personnel files, not all of them of other humans. He put the tablet in his coat and pulled out his revolver. Opening the cylinder, he checked and examined the barrel, readying his sidearm.

"This will do just nicely."

* * *

 **Junius and the Terrans  
Camala Wilderness**

They continued on through the unending dead woods. Though it was a few hours until dawn on Camala, the bright explosions and burning ruins made it almost seem like day. The horizon lit up in a white glare that grew red as it reached for the sky.

Above them, Terran fighters flew by, brushing the tops of the trees. The freed slaves watched as an occasional frigate of the Terrans, their smooth line body design, almost like that of a Salarian cruiser, came by over them, firing its torpedoes at a target far behind them.

"Those aren't mass accelerated slugs, huh?" asked Yana as she stared at one of the torpedoes soaring in the sky above the dead tree line, before it disappeared and was followed by a loud explosion a great distance away.

"No, they're too slow and shouldn't glow red when burning through the atmosphere. Must be a missile of sorts," said Junius at the front as he brushed away branches and bushes, "And Dov'tok, what was so important on Edan's computers?"

"I don't really understand it myself. Mostly Prothean data. I was informed the Terrans are searching far and wide for some."

"Do you think all this tech they have is Prothean based?" asked Satorius.

Junius shook his head, "All races use Prothean technology. But not like this. Anything else, Dov'tok?"

"Edan was hired by the Hegemony to recover the wreckage of a ship. But the rest is encrypted. Hope the Terrans can decode it."

As they approached the road, Junius heard a sharp noise and ordered the group to stay low. He, Dov'tok, and Satorius went on ahead and stayed down behind an embankment overlooking the road. Junius looked over, a skirmish in the works.

* * *

"Bayleaf! This is Kilo. Road post 8 is under attack! They have armor support!"

The sergeant stayed down as the two soldiers beside him returned fire from the cover of a jeep. He looked over to the roadblock a few meters away, where the rest of his squad was scrabbling for cover. One slid to cover behind a truck across the road from him, an AT-10 in hand.

He looked over and singled her to take aim. As he and the other two laid down suppressing fire, the other soldier took aim and fired, the HEDP round blasting through the recoilless AT-10 and straight into the Batarian tank, hitting its side armor at an angle. The explosion blew threw the gyro of the tank, disabling its turret from taking aim, but the gunner quickly got out and manned the turret machine gun instead.

He opened his comm again, yelling his rough deep voice out, "Bayleaf, where the hell are you?"

A short moment passed until a radio signal came through the radio in his helmet. The pilot finally came in, calm and annoying cheerful.

"Bayleaf. Picking you up."

"We need air support, you bastard. Outpost 8 is under siege…" He raised his arms to cover his head as the gunner shredded their jeep, glass and metal falling on them. "Target is Danger Close, begin run!"

"Confirm. ETA thirty seconds."

He groaned and got back into the fighting, taking aim with his Lancer and fired at the approaching Batarian home guard. As they got closer, more gunfire erupted from their side. The sergeant moved his eyes for a quick moment to notice but went back to looking down his sight. But his corporal took greater note.

"Who the hell is that? Did Lima fall back?"

"And save our asses? I doubt it. They're not shooting us so they're friendly as far as I care."

* * *

"Dov'tok, far left. Satorius, the officer closest to us. I'll go for tank gunner."

They took aim with their rifles and with a short count off, they rose up from their position and fired, killing their targets and drawing the rest of the Batarian squad over to them. As they fired from the high ground, Kilo added to their firepower, putting the Batarians in the cross fire between them and the freed slaves.

They fell back, taking cover behind their tank. But from the distance, the fighter-bomber began his run, the loud intake of its planetary ramjets clear to Kilo. The sergeant looked over to the embankment, realizing that neither the Batarians nor the slaves had any idea of the incoming sortie.

As the fighter grew closer, the sergeant took out his flare gun and took aim, shooting a Batarian in the head. Junius took quick notice of the burning flare in the dead man's head and looked over to the Terrans, the sergeant waving to them, pointing upward. In a short moment, he quickly realized what it meant. Quickly moving back, he grabbed Dov'tok and Satorius as he jumped back down the embankment to the woods below.

As they stumbled back into the woods, the fighter came through, dropping its explosive ordinance to effect. A moment after the flyby all that was left of the convoy was a burning wreckage of twisted metal and charred bodies scattered about. Junius climbed back out, looking over the embankment. But this time below him was the Terran Kilo squad, taking aim at him as the sergeant calmly walked over.

He called out. "John Brown!"

Junius dropped his rifle and lifted his hand up as he climbed to the top. "Is Alive! Is Alive!"

"That's the code." He signaled Junius and he slid down the embankment, followed by the others. The rest emerged as well, walking around to a leveled area of the road. As the rest of the squad spread out to survey the area, the sergeant walked over to Junius, taking a good look at the nearly seven-foot Turian. "And thankfully, so are you. You must be one of them birds."

"Birds?" asked Junius, confused by the term.

The sergeant removed his helmet and repositioned his radio earpiece. "Ape. The name's Sergeant Massani, Terran 3rd Army."

His radio went off.

"Hey, where's my 'thank you'?"

"Screw off, Bayleaf."

"Forget this, I'm going back to stealing the Marines' kills."

He turned back to Junius and gave a haft-hearted chuckle. "Ha, Navy. Always trying to take the credit. So you're escaped slaves?"

"That's right. We're trying to get to one of your field hospitals. We have wounded and ill."

"Alright. I think the Red Cross should have established themselves already at Hotel… Shit, that's a good ten clicks from here."

He turned around and began to walk back to the outpost, a fork in the road with a few makeshift guard towers. His squad quickly followed, followed up by Junius and his group. As he prepared his radio, he looked down the other road intersecting them, another convoy approaching.

* * *

Kilo took position again, but the driver in front waved them off, indicating friendly. The sergeant stopped the truck and walked over to the driver as he poked out the window.

"Great, Marines… Corporal, what's the cargo back here?" He asked, seeing three trucks, one of them not of Terran make but with the flag tied onto the side.

"We have… requisitioned enemy war supplies. Heading back to Forward Base Hotel."

"Well tell your men to dump it here. We have escaped slaves and they need a ride."

The driver got off his truck, "What? We have orders from Marine Admiral Averil to get enemy… goods to him when seized."

"I don't care if you're delivering the four eye's Holy Grail! Helping escaped slaves is the standing order for the entire operation, straight from Roland and Williams!" The sergeant pointed his finger at the driver's chest, pushing him into the truck, "Dump the war loot and drive them to Hotel, now!"

"Yes, sir!"

The crew quickly unloaded the material, mostly stolen antiquities from some rich Batarian aristocrats. Junius could only guess where it came from. War prizing was a common war practice, if illegal one, but when invading an entire planet, it's easy to get away with it. He noticed as they recklessly cleared the trucks that some of them were from the Had'dah manor, with one of a kind vases and Prothean relics. He almost felt bad, for the Protheans anyway. Their millennia long work, being thrown into a ditch.

"Well, come on," said the driver as he gazed at a priceless vase, then casually threw it into a ditch, "Get in the trucks. This underground train isn't making another stop."

They got on board and left, waving the sentry goodbye. They left the woods and drove onto the desert plains of Camala, where they could see in full the burning refineries and scorched cities in the distance. After a few kilometers, several troop convoys passed by going the other way, loaded with Terran Marines and Army soldiers as they headed out to patrol the far ends of the front.

Above them, more fighters came through, followed by gunships loaded to bear. Junius turned to Dov'tok, pausing for a moment as he saw large cargo transport shuttles with APCs dangling beneath it. "This isn't some raid. It's really a full invasion."

"Across the Hegemony, these Terrans have been doing nothing but. I didn't get the details, but they have torn through the Hegemony like a hot knife through butter."

"You still don't know these Terrans?"

"No… Not really. All I know from contacts working with them now is that they are mad as hell at us. Sent one of their fleets in. Ten thousand ships."

Satorius turned to him, sitting across from them, "Ten thousand ships? They consider that a single fleet?"

A Marine riding shotgun opened his back window, "That's just our second fleet!" He yelled as the increased roughness of the road shook the vehicle. "You haven't seen anything close to our full might yet."

"I… I always thought, that if I was saved, that the Hierarchy would come back for us. I don't even know who you are," said Satorius as he turned back to Junius.

"We're the United Terran Federation!" said the Marine with a glee, "Liberating and spreading freedom is our job!"

"It's now our job!" said the driver, bobbing up and down in his seat, as the road grew rough. "Last week, I was sitting on my ass at a fuel depot on Terra Nova, refilling humvees with ethanol. Now we're invading the entire galaxy! I never thought we'd be the alien invaders."

"A week? How long has this war with the Hegemony been going on for?" asked Junius.

"Oh, I think we're on day six now? I heard Admiral Roland is besieging your four eyed friend's home world."

Junius leaned his head back, "Spirits. Your kind spent less than a week here and are that close to full conquest."

"We are good at war. Honestly, I am a bit disappointed."

"How?" asked Dov'tok. "You're about to win!"

"Yes but… We always though that when we finally made First Contact, that we would be facing an enemy that was stronger, superior to us. This isn't the 'war for Terran survival'. It's a war of conquest. We're not the underdog, we're the galactic empire!"

"I don't know. I'm enjoying it," said the Marine, "'Terran Empire'. Sounds nicer."

"Oh God, an 'Emperor Bowman'. That's the last thing we need."

Junius looked at them with shock, his mandibles flexing as he thought, _"First Contact?"_

"What? I can't hear…" He swerved the truck, missing a wide load flatbed with a few Panther tanks. The rest of the convoy followed suit as they drove to the side, honking all the while. The group held on in the back before the driver got the truck on the road, cursing out the flatbed trucker driver as he looked out behind the window and yelled. "Damn Army, leaving their toys all over the place… Oh, we're here."

* * *

 **Base Hotel**

They pulled up to the entrance of the base. From the entrance they saw the walls, large bag compartments full of sand and rocks stretching a half-kilometer at each end, five meters in height. At the entrance, the Terrans had several contingents of guards with APCs and tanks all around. The guards cleared them in, ordering the driver to a sanitation center nearby.

As the trucks pulled up, several human aid workers rushed over. They helped each of the freed slaves off the truck, before giving a quick visual examination. Afterwards, they spilt the group up, dividing first by race, then gender to different sections of the sanitation center, a huge encompassing tent more than a hundred meters wide and a dozen meters tall.

For Junius, a worker rushed him to an undressing room for the Turian males, where station workers quickly removed their clothes, cataloged them, and packaged them for further analysis. Followed by Satorius and three more Turians, they directed them on to a long and wide conveyer belt, blocked with chest high curtains on either end for the entire length. Junius noticed the rough surface belt was wet. An aid worker arrived, instructing them to calm themselves down and stand on the belt, single profile as it moved. As it moved, he walked along with them.

Junius looked at him, his reaction delayed before he realized something, "Y-you're Turian! What's going on here?"

"We need to run you through decontamination. Hold your arms up to your sides and close your eyes," said the Turian, chuckling as he walked along with him on the other side of the curtain.

Junius closed his eyes as the belt went under a large showerhead, "I'm suddenly being reminded of when they washed us off after being captured."

"Rest assured, my brother. This cleanse shall make you free!" The showerhead opened, as water rained on him with a moderate intensity. It stopped and the belt continued on for the next one. "Be forewarned though, that next shower is going to hurt."

"What do you mean it will…?" The next showerhead opened, releasing a special dextro based cleaning solution. It was devised just hours after the invasion as the Terran Red Cross and Military Logistics Corp quickly formulated a way to deal with the potential flux of rescued slaves and refugees from the war, let alone dealing with alien biology. The chemical burned a bit on his metal skin, removing impurities and sanitizing any wounds. Junius felt the pain deep in his decades old scars from Logasiri, and yelled out as he grabbed on to the curtain railing for a moment, before he stood back up.

The last showerhead was regular cold water, washing away the chemicals as the cold water cooled them down. The Turian and human workers at the other side helped them off the belt, where they stood them on a marked spot. At Junius' spot, they kept his arms and legs spread out as drones hovered about around him and scanned his body, flash atom forging clothing for him at a nearby replicator.

As they did so, one of the human workers stared on at Junius and commented.

"Wow… Look at that Turian…" said the worker.

The other shook his head as he examined the data on his watch, "Wanda, must you say that?"

"Well I'm happy for First Contact, Bill. All the exotic aliens. Asari, Turian… That Drell… Makes us seem inadequate."

He sighed and rolled his eyes as the female giggled. He grabbed the clothes from the replicator and tossed them to Junius.

"I should switch stations with Larry. I wonder what those suit people look like?"

Junius dressed himself, a surprisingly well fitting nylon shirt of grey with blue contrast, an air loose but well fitting pants, and a pair of shoes. The Turian nodded to him and they continued on from decontamination to a medical quarter dived by curtains. As they entered, the Turian asked him to wait as he walked out. Junius looked around as he sat on the medical bed, trying to get a bearing on what was happening. Then the doctor arrived.

He came in, quickly rushing up to him and stared at him intensively as he continued typing his notes on the tablet he was holding. "Fascinating! You must be a… centurion?"

"Turian…"

He backed up and looked down on his notes. "Yah yes, of course! It would seem weird your race's translation came out as the name of a rank for an ancient human empire."

Junius gave him a confused look, "Are you … human?"

"Ah well…"

He then began to flicker; his whole upper body flickering as it suddenly disappeared and reappeared like the light from a poorly connected bulb. Junius sat up and scooted up in the medical bed with some fright as the doctor continued to casually type his notes, his chest disappearing and leaving his head and arms floating.

"Now then… Turian. You're my first one. Just got shipped with the latest batch of doctors from Earth. First things first… Does your species lay eggs?"

"Spirits, what the hell is going on with you?"

He looked down and noticed the hologram of his body was staring to fail. "Uh, oh crap, the damn holo drone is broken again," He looked to Junius and laughed, "I should have stayed in the service. These civilian orgs never bother to pitch in on better equipment." While Junius continued to look at him with fright, the doctor called for a nurse to come in to fix his drone. He continued to prepare his medical equipment and began to examine Junius. He froze a bit as he stared. The doctor disengaged the main hologram of his chest from his arms to his waist, revealing the drone surrounded by transparent lines that showed his chest basic layout while connecting his still visible head and arms to his hips.

He continued to ask as the nurse tinkered with the drone from behind him. "So? Yes or no. I have two Merkels riding on this!"

"What! Uh, no. We give birth to our offspring. You must be thinking of Salarians."

"Ha! I win. You heard him, Nurse. Forty bucks! Now maybe I can afford to just buy my own damn holodrone… Should have took Ramos' advice and stayed in the Navy."

Junius held his arm up, phasing his talon through the transparent part of his body, but was stopped by the seemly solid and flesh shoulder of the doctor.

"Oh good, your arm's out. I need a blood sample."

He grabbed a hypospray and rammed it into his arm. Junius yelled out as he drew blood, the hypospray opening up skin to draw before resealing it in a clean but painful manner.

"Your drone should be working now, Doctor," said the nurse.

"Ah good, good. Now Mr. Turian. Are you a… male?"

Junius paused, unable to decide if he was shocked by what the hologrammost likely was or dumbfounded by that stupid question. But before he could answer, they all heard a shout of fright.

" _Meep! AI! AI! Get the hell away from my cousin!"_

" _Wait! Calm down… Ah! Ah! How the hell did you hack my legs! Ah! Can't move, can't move! Nurse!"_

The doctor began to chuckle, "Another Quarian and us Synthas. We were the only ones the Red Cross could send at the start of the war. But I swear, there's nothing more adorable than a scared Quarian. Like playing peek a boo with a baby."

Junius stared at him, eyes wide open with disbelief. "You're an AI?"

"Uh? Oh yah… Oh crap, I forgot, didn't I?" He chuckled as he examined the blood sample. "When you're designed to be like your creators... Well, I guess it beats us trying to kill them all… Now… why is your blood blue? Do you use a copper-cobalt compound to absorb oxygen in the blood?"

"What! Uh, yes. I guess."

"I see… you're done."

"That's it? Shouldn't medical examines be longer?"

"Huh? Oh no. I got the data we actually need from when we scanned you for your clothes. I just had questions and wanted a blood sample." Junius raised his talon with a question, but the AI doctor quickly responded, "And no, you don't want to know why I need your blood. Now off you go."

Junius slowly got off the bed as the doctor walked to a table with a microscope. He continued to stare as the doctor examined his blood. Then he disappeared entirely, revealing a small hover drone as the blood vile dropped on the table. Junius quickly left afterwards as the doctor called for the nurse with the drone's speakers.

* * *

 **Part 2:**

 **Junius and Liberation  
Base Hotel  
June 5, 2167 22:45:00 UTC**

The Turian he saw earlier came up to him and guided him to the registration station at the open wide end of the tent, where several rows and columns of desks were. He saw as the others started to come out as well, dressed in similar styled clothing, aside from Yana and Kemm, who were quickly transferred into brand new suits.

The Turian sat down at a table and asked Junius to sit as well, as every other aid worker did so with the others.

"Well, I would like to say congratulations. You are free!"

Junius looked at him, still confused about the whole thing. "That's great, but I didn't expect to see a Turian in your position. Is the Council working with these 'Terrans'?"

"Spirits no!" He said with a laugh, "Those barefaced idiots have no idea what's going on here."

"Then who are you?"

"Batorin Ritorius. Just a few days ago, I was a slave on some distant colony. Now I'm here helping others like you! They were very appreciative. They clearly don't know alien anatomy. Though I heard they are similar to Batarian on the inside."

He looked around the wide-open area of the registration area, as hundreds of humans walked about, with a mix of several Council and other races walking about, all dressed in the white medical uniform. Outside, military suppliers and Marines were moving about as shuttles landed to drop more troops and supplies off.

"Who are these Terrans?" asked Junius.

Ritorius thought about the question, rolling his talons on the table before answering. "Well. Terran is a political term, according to them."

"What do you mean?"

He pointed over to a human, "He is human. That's their race. But they are citizens of their Federation. Thus he can be referred to as a Terran."

Junius sat back in his seat. "I never heard of the humans. They really are an unknown race."

"Yes they are. According to my liberators, they have lived in the Traverse for years. Control almost the entire area. I couldn't believe the Council never found them."

"Well, the Council hasn't sent ships in there since the Rebellion. I wonder if they found any of our old bases… How long have they been there?"

"I haven't asked them that yet. But can you imagine this war is basically their First Contact?" He chuckled before continuing, "They had a huge military just laying around, and the moment the Batarians found them, it turned into a full on war." He leaned towards Junius, "They really hate slavery."

"And the AI doctor?"

"I know right. Even the Quarians helping them are still a bit frightened. Just like their creators really. All the good and bad that it implies. I remember VIs that acted smarter than them. But trust me, they are most certainly self aware."

"Uh… So what am I doing here?" asked Junius.

"Well, they freed you. But for all practical purposes, they have to care and house you, thus they will be ruling over you instead. So they need to take account." Ritorius grabbed a basic government issued smart watch from a drawer in his desk, and activated it. Unlike the bulkier military versions, it was a seemly ordinary watch with a small screen, a low energy holo projector with an inch-thick strap. As he configured it, Junius asked.

"What is that?" He asked.

"A smart watch. It these humans' version of an omnitool." He showed him how to turn it on and changed the holo GUI into an omnitool style interface. "The omnitool is still more versatile in my opinion, but the Terrans have more computing power than the aiming computer of a dreadnought."

"This small thing? How do you know that?"

Ritorius chuckled for a while before he replied, "I was once the chief engineer of the _Victorio's Shield_. The humans' tech may differ vastly from the Council, but when they shine out, it is amazing. Quantum computers, this thing is."

"The _Shield_ …The 34th Fleet. You were at the battle of Philippi?"

He nodded, "Captured by the Batarians. They sent me to the Hegemony. But I heard of the others captured… Logasiri." He shivered a bit and sighed. "Those poor souls. I heard of the horrors there. Spirits will it if any survived."

Junius spoke, a soft amazement in his voice, "I was captured in Philippi…"

"Really? What ship were you on?"

"The _Titans of Palaven_."

"Admiral Junius's ship? Spirits…" He paused and thought about that for a moment. "If I may ask, do you know what happened to him?"

Junius stared at him, "You tell me. You're staring at him."

Ritorius froze and stared at him, his uplifting expression gone as he stared at Junius.

"No… you're… You are not Admiral Junius."

"I am."

"No… No!" Ritorius stood and slammed on the table with his talons. "How dare you claim to be that man! He died a hero!"

Junius stood up and pointed his talon at his chest, "He never died a hero… I never died a hero! I was sent to Logasiri for over twenty years! That battle, that war... It. Cost. Me. Everything!"

The entire tent was silent, as every other freed slave and aid worker stopped and looked over at them. Junius was breathing hard, staring down the aid worker.

Ritorius looked at him, his anger now subsided. He then opened his eyes just a bit wider, in a slowing realization. "I spent the last thirty plus years, thinking about all that went wrong that day. Of how the Hierarchy abandoned me… us. I was told you died. The entire Hierarchy thought you died!"

"Well _Chief Engineer_ Ritorius, the famed Fleet Admiral Marcus Junius, the man who quelled the Quarian Pilgrim Uprising, the man who stopped Warlord Okeer from building his fleet, the man who had a family, friends… That man is dead. If you want a hero, keep him dead," He looked around as the others continued to stare, "But you tell me what I am. Because in the mines of Logasiri, I died. And when I left, I sure as hell wasn't him."

Junius grabbed his watch, and left as he tried to place it on. After passing by a few desks, Ritorius called him out.

"Junius!"

He looked back at him, to be suddenly amazed by what he saw. Ritorius stood there, his talon to his head, saluting him. Junius stared for a long moment, having never been saluted in so long. He slowly turned around as he held his hand up, seeing it shake. He took a deep breath and released, his hand momentarily steady. Then, Junius looked to Ritorius and saluted him.

"Chief Ritorius?"

"You are Admiral Marcus Junius!" He yelled out to him with a cheer, "The man who survived Philippi, the man who survived Logasiri, the man who survived to be free!"

They both placed their hands down. Junius replied, "We both survived… But tell me…for what?" He then turned and walked away, followed by the other freed slaves from his group.

* * *

 **Part 3:**

 **Junius and Dov'tok  
June 5, 2167 00:00:00 UTC**

"Who's that alien in the suit, doc?" asked a Marine to the AI doctor.

"That's a Quarian." He said as he examined his old holo drone, having since just stolen a more reliable military one.

"Quarian… damn. I like her hips."

The Marine next to him laughed him off as she pointed to another alien. "Please Nereo, look at that! The ass on that…"

"Asari, Marlisa," said the doctor.

"Her skin… So… Blue."

The AI doctor searched his database for her files and responded as he continued configuring his old drone, "She was born before the rediscovery of North America."

"To stay hot for a thousand years. What a truly marvelous race."

The two Marines chuckled as they stared at the aliens, the doctor rolling his eyes. But Yana and Tarme took notice, clearly unhappy with what they were doing. They both walked up to the Marines. Tarme energized her biotics and slapped Marlisa across the face. Yana punched Nereo straight in the nose. They both fell back against a fence in pain as the doctor laughed at them.

But then Yana walked back and kicked the doctor between the legs.

"Take that you damn synthetic Bosh'tet!"

The doctor collapsed on the ground, cringing in pain as he grabbed his groin while he rolled around on the ground next to the Marines.

"Stupid pain subroutines! Should have learned how to turn them off."

* * *

Ms. Coré continued to walk through the camp, flanked by her accompanying agents in their disguise. She was dressed in her office suit, maintaining the disguise of a Central Bureau of Investigation agent. She was growing tired of the dumb outfit; she gave up the chance of being a Beret or a N7 to be one of the leading agents of the Federal Intelligence Agency. But it was nice, she thought though. She was dealing with an actual foreign entity than some domestic affairs issue.

She cleared their way pass the guards into the area where the freed slaves were being held. She looked around, using her invisible heads up display in front of her to scan each alien. After a moment, she found her target and directed her subordinates at him.

They walked over to Perwan, who was talking with Tarme and Yana under a small canopy tent for shade. As they converse, discussing about the prospect of being free, Coré walked up to him, taking out her forged badge.

"Mr… Perwan, correct?"

He turned and looked over, suddenly nervous at the sight of the intimidating Terran lady and her muscular looking guards flanking her side.

"Yes, I am Perwan… I-Is there something you need."

She flashed her badge at them. It was an unusual sight for them since it was a rarely done practice in both the Hegemony and the Council.

"I am Eva Coré, here on behalf of the Central Bureau of Investigation of the United Terran Federation."

"Uh, is that some sort of intelligence service?"

"Well, we are internal affairs. An upper level police force, you may call it."

"I-I see. Is there anything you need?"

She slid her fingers through her curled up knots and let down her naturally long, genetically rare blonde hair. The others took quick notice, in awe of her beauty as the rising sun shined upon her. But Perwan was unfazed. She quickly remembered her debriefing, internally angry she forgot about the Salarians' lack of hormonal attraction. At least she got the others' attention.

"We would like to have a conversation with you… in private."

"Uh well, of course…"

He quickly panicked and made a run for it. But Coré anticipated it and took out a taster gun. She quickly zapped him as her subordinates rushed and secure Perwan. The others looked on, horrified by the Terrans' upfront aggression, but Coré quickly turned to explain.

"Do not worry." She said with a smile to calm them down, "Your friend here was actually an Salarian Special Task Group agent. We just needed to properly... secure him until we make diplomatic contact with his government. He'll be fine."

She walked away as her subordinates joined her, Perwan tied up as he was carried away. He turned to her.

"W-What are you going to do with me?"

She turned to him, resting on the shoulders of one of the other FIA agents. She smiled, the kind of smile he learned in training that if he saw on an Asari, it wouldn't end well.

"We are going to have a chat, Mr. Perwan. If you don't cooperate however, well… when we're done, the sight of a wet towel will make you shit yourself silly."

"Oh no…"

* * *

Across the yard outside the tent, Junius and Dov'tok gathered near an exit post leading to the rest of the base. They paid no mind to Perwan's capture, almost surprised they didn't suspect him as a STG to begin with.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Dov'tok, but Admiral Averil has made it clear, there is no record of a resistance agent aiding us in the capture of Camala," said a Marine standing guard at the entrance into the base.

"That's impossible!" said Dov'tok, dressed in similar clothing to Junius standing next to him. "Talk to another admiral or general. I must speak with them."

"I'm sorry, but I can't do that. You'll have to talk with an Army representative."

Junius rubbed his forehead with the fist of his talon, "And when will that be?"

The Marine turned to his left. There was a set of bleachers just beyond the fence, where several off duty Marines were sitting at. In front of that was a wide-open flatland, several kilometers wide open.

"Well, I believe that's a transport ship landing right there." Beyond the bleachers above, a ship was slowly landing in front of the Marines. "The main force of the 3rd army should be in those transports. You may go there if you wish. I'll clear you by."

"Thank you, Sargent."

They walked over, first passing by the gate separating the holding area from the rest of Base Hotel. The Marine radioed in for clearance, allowing them to pass by since their destination was only right outside. As the ship touched down and its large bay door lowered down into a ramp, Junius and Dov'tok walked up and sat down with several Marines on break, watching the Army arrive.

Junius turned to a human Marine, resting as he looked on, "So, as an alien, familiarize me on why all of you are here just watching?"

The Marine turned to him, chuckling a bit before he answered, "Well it's simple, you see. We, the almighty Terran Marines, were the ones who landed first, who freed you, who did all the real work. But the Army, you know how it is…"

"I wouldn't. The Turians don't have this apparently high level of competition between military branches."

"Well, they are going to march right in, with their tanks, toys, and tin men soldiers, and steal our accomplishment. Then the Navy is going to downplay us and take the credit for everything else. We Marines are not a separate branch, so the other two like to pick on us."

Another Marine turned to him, "Even though we are the reason the Navy can actually take planets and the Army doesn't get shot up occupying them."

The ramp fully deployed, as the first convoy trucks left. With an open cover, the soldiers looked on as their trucks rolled out the ship and onto the ground. As they drove slowly past the Marines, they in turn began taking their pot shot insults at them as they passed by.

"Hey Army, you're late to the party! We already saved everyone!"

"Maybe if you'd stop playing with your toys, you could actually learn to fight like us!"

"Hell, they're Army soldiers! They **A** ren't **R** eady for the **M** arines **Y** et!"

Junius and Dov'tok watched as the Marines laughed at the passing soldiers. They watched as one stood up and marched in place on the bleachers, the others clapping along in rhythm. He then began to sing out loud the last part of the Terran Marine's hymn.

 _"If the Army and the Navy  
Ever look on Heaven's scenes;  
They will find the streets are guarded  
By United Terran Marines."_

As one truck stopped from a backup, the Army officer commanding the soldiers on board stood up and spoke to her squad, loud enough for the Marines at the bleachers to hear.

She laughed back at the Marines and then turned to rally her soldiers, "Don't you mind them lads, they're just a bunch of marines. You are Terran Soldiers!"

She rallied her squad to yell out their own chant.

" _Who tells the Navy what to do?"_

They shouted out their answer.

" _Army!"_

" _Who finishes the Marines' job?"_

" _Army!"_

" _Who defends Terran Democracy?"_

" _Army!"_

" _Who gets laid the most?"_

" _Army!"_

They all laughed as the Marines tried to dismiss them, yelling back at them. Then everyone became silent. Junius looked over at them, trying to figure out why. He then saw as the Marines and the soldiers stood up from where they were and turned to a nearby vehicle, where a man was standing on his seat beside the driver. He was dressed in an Army uniform, of camouflage green with navy blue contrast on the shoulders and arms. As he came up and stopped, they all saluted the Army general, for rank overrided any separation between the branches.

An officer on the truck addressed him. "General Williams!"

He turned and saluted his own soldiers first, leaving the Marines hanging, stuck in their saluting posture, "Major. I trust you are handling the Marines well?"

"Of course, sir!"

"Good." He turned and, out of common courtesy, saluted back to the Marines as he smiled, "If you want to get at my troops, you'll want to think of better insults than that!"

The soldiers laughed at the Marines as he got off and walked away towards the inner part of the base. Junius and Dov'tok took notice and walked up to him.

Williams noticed and greeted them. "Hello. May I help you with something?"

Dov'tok spoke first, "General. I am Markov Dov'tok. I was the Batarian resistance agent for the Camala invasion."

"Ah! You are the agent I was informed about. Well, you did a brilliant job. Their ships simply stood there as the Navy blasted them away. Landing the Marines proved effortless afterwards. They always need help anyway."

"Thank you, sir. But a good amount of credit goes to my friend here." He gestured over to Junius, who was surprised by the acknowledgement. Williams turned and looked over him, maintaining his composer as he found who he was looking for.

"Well thank you, Mr. Turian. You have helped to secure freedom for this entire colony. Now, I believe we should go and meet with Averil in his HQ."

"Of course, General. May I bring my friend though? His name is Marcus Junius."

He chuckled, "Junius, eh? Well, it can't hurt. Follow me. If you aren't already at his tent, he's most likely dodging you."

* * *

 **Part 4:**

 **Averil's Office  
June 6, 2167 00:15:00 UTC**

"A famous admiral? I wouldn't have guessed," said Averil while he sat in his desk, as they met in his small tent office in the inner part of the base.

"Marcus Junius. You have done a great action," said Williams, sitting down on the corner of Averil's desk, "You helped pave Camala for Terran liberation. All that remains is Khar'shan by Roland."

"Yes, but who are you? I overheard Dov'tok speaking of this unknown race. But I presumed it was part of a greater Council intervention," said Junius as he sat at the right seat, across from Averil.

"The Citadel Council? Why would you hold such morons in high regard? They left you here to die!" said Averil.

"But are they aware of what you've done?"

Williams looked at him and laughed before responding, "They're still not sure if we even exist! But I think we put that to rest."

He grabbed Averil's console and used his watch to display screen footage of Hackett's raid. Junius and Dov'tok watched as the Terrans did the impossible defy and attack the Council and destroy the _Ascension_ in a spectacular ram. One that was quickly followed by them leaving with the Council having nothing to show in their efforts to stop them.

Junius turned to Williams and asked him whom they were. He explained the Terrans, Humanity, and the details of the last few days. As Averil continued with his own work at his desk, Williams explained the war with the Batarians, the annexation of the Quarians and their transfer of troops to the Terran's war, as well as the now tense status between the Council and the Federation.

The information proved enlightening to Dov'tok, who had been planning the Camala invasion to the last minute for the past two days, amazed of the events of just the past few days. Junius seemed stunned, but didn't make any emotional show, taking it in surprising well. Averil paid no attention, but Williams was inwardly surprised. He met many others in the past few days, who expressed clear bewilderment at his existence. He took note of Junius' acceptance.

Dov'tok asked for the history of the humans, one that Williams enthusiastically told. The sheer amount that humanity had achieved in their short time was a shock to Dov'tok, and Junius himself took notice of it. After a series of question by them, Dov'tok asked.

"So what shall happen to us now?"

"Well, with the fall of the Hegemony, we would be needing a new government to take control. One friendly to us, naturally," Williams checked his watch, "Actually, I recommend you talk with your leader, a Mr. Derik, yes? Roland's forces just liberated him from a prison on your home world."

"Ja'hal Derik? I'm surprised the Chairman didn't have him executed. Having him as an ally will greatly aid in your occupation."

"Liberation," corrected Williams.

"The difference, General?" asked Junius, staring at him with interest.

Williams stared him down for a moment, then smiled. "Not much, I guess. We overuse that word anyway."

He activated his watch, bringing up a holoscreen. He then swiped it at Dov'tok, transferring the file content displayed to his watch. "We have a hyperspace commlink established with him, you may go talk to him if you wish."

"That would be best. I'll need him when reporting with the other cells." He reached for his pocket and took out an OCD, "Oh and here. I was informed the Terrans would want these Prothean data files."

Williams leaned over and took it, "Thank you, Dov'tok. The Federation will make good use of it. I can assure you."

"If you'll excuse me..." He stood up and nodded to them before leaving the tent, where a few Marines escorted him away to a commutation relay.

Williams turned to Junius, who noticed and turned to him. "Now I must ask. What do you plan to do?"

Junius looked at him for a moment, silent, before he leaned back in his seat and answered, "I… I don't know."

Averil answered, "Eventually we'll make proper contact with the Citadel Council. Many of the freed slaves will be returning to their old homes…"

"Many were born into slavery," said Junius, "They have no home to go to. And many who do wouldn't consider it a home anymore."

Williams thought about his next words as he looked at the OCD in his hand. He then spoke, "What about you, Mr. Junius. Do you have a home to go back to? Family? Friends?"

Junius simply sat there, before he dropped his head and looked down onto his talons. A flash through his mind went out as he thought hard of those words. Home: His family manor on Cipritine, Palaven. Family: An estranged wife he knew never loved him and a once ten-year-old son he never had the time to know and raise. Friends: his best friend and brother-in-law, who once travelled with him across the galaxy, then doomed him over the skies of Philippi and robbed him of everything, He felt empty thinking about it, and Williams knew it.

"No… Not when I was a fleet admiral… And certainly not now."

"Interesting…" Averil turned to pay attention, "What do you plan then."

"I… I don't know…"

Williams placed the OCD in his coat and replied, "Join us then."

They both turned to Williams, Averil surprised and Junius with confusion, "What!"

"Junius… _Admiral_ Junius. The Council betrayed you, the Hierarchy abandoned you. But now, the Federation is here for you. You're right in what you said," He walked over to the entrance flaps and opened it for them to look out. "Many here have nothing to return to. They have no reason to return to the old galaxy. And some like you, Junius, have no want to return."

Junius stood up and walked over to Williams as Averil began searching his desk, his fears confirmed. They looked out onto the court of the center of the base; a loose-wired fence separating the main area to the holding area for the rehabilitating freed slaves. The morning sun had begun to shine, illuminating the base. Many were gathered around certain aids workers, who used their watches to display information and mapping as they tried to answer questions. Many were in one-on-one sessions with the numerous Naval psychologist personnel, working and talking through with those who were more psychologically scarred from the horror of enslavement.

He noticed the house servants scattered about. Satorius and a few of the servants, three Turians, an Asari and a Drell that were once soldiers or mercenaries, were watching the deployment of the Army from the transport ships. As the Terran M-25 Panther tanks and M-19 Sandtiger APCs rolled off the transports, they discussed with nearby soldiers and Marines, trading info and stories of each other's experience fighting across their part of the Galaxy.

"A huge military, huh?" asked Junius as he raised his talons to block the rising sun.

"Barley a percent of the eligible population serves. But the human understanding is that if you can out-build any enemy, victory shall always be yours."

Junius looked over towards the main tent, were a volunteer Quarian doctor was treating Kemm as Yana talked to an accompanying Quarian Marine guard. Fitted with new suits, they looked as if they had not been away from the Fleet for a couple of years. The recent joining with Humanity's Federation still surprising to them.

"Fifty thousand ships at your disposable will surely scare the Council."

Williams chuckled, "Ours is bigger. Try seventy-five thousand ships."

Junius made a simple hum of acknowledgement as he thought of that number, mandibles twitching, "And how does your single race build that many ships?"

"It's called 'blowing the Federal budget and hoping you don't default'," Williams then laughed before adding on, "Oh… But I assure you. We have our reasons and we can build more if we must."

Junius looked over to see Terme, Calya and a majority of the others servants standing near a few human aid workers. They sat down on several foldable chairs and listened to the humans as they seemly preached about the ideas and values of the Terrans, with a lot of unnecessary hand and arm gesturing. He was sure they had rehearsed their talk. After years in captivity, Junius guessed that anything would be relatively uplifting. But he got the sense Williams was trying the same thing on him.

Junius turned to him, "Why would you want me, or any of us to join up with you humans?"

"I would like to know myself as well, Williams," asked Averil from his desk.

They walked back in, Junius to his seat as Williams walked around and stood next to Averil in his seat.

"Well… Junius. I'd like your opinion, as a fellow soldier. What do you think of us?"

Junius looked at him in confusion, but decided to actually think about the question for a good long moment. He then answered.

"For a race that's barley a hundred years space faring, has a single percent of its population in the military, and has a severely overinflated sense of confidence… I must say that I am impressed." He sat up and crossed his legs, "In terms of size, your personnel size is the smallest of the main Council races. Because of your clear youth, even with this war, most of your officers, including you two, are less experienced and skilled in galactic established warfare. And you bluntly provoked the entire Citadel Council by raiding the Citadel itself! They finally build the _Ascension_ … and you rammed it.

But… it's clear you are more than able to make up for it. You have the largest fleet in the galaxy, and unlike the Quarians, yours are all fully war capable, if I can take your word for it. You outright break the millennia long established strategy of organized warfare, rendering anything that our admirals and generals throw at you ineffective. And knowing the Council, they'll most likely back down from a fight even if you didn't have any of that going for you. But I'm guessing you're up for a full-on war?"

"Ready for a war? Yes. But we all know better than that." Williams used his watch to create a holo of the galaxy, before he grabbed it and began to walk around the room. "Junius. You have seen many things in your time here in the great… well, not great, but large galaxy of ours, no?"

Junius moved his eyes with his movement, but kept still as he listened then replied, "I certainly have."

"I would be shocked if you haven't. Naturally Humanity and the Terran people haven't seen much. We're young and wild and the galaxy is ours for the taking. It would appear that no one can really stop us. But there is something out there… it's a threat to us… And it's a threat to everyone else in the galaxy."

Averil looked at him, "Wait a minute. What are you doing, Williams?"

"Explaining why we want him and everyone else that wants to join us. Junius, image something utterly unbelievable…"

"Your entire race is something that fits that," remarked Junius as he sat back and crossed his arms and legs.

He chucked and replied, "Thank you," then continued on with a far more serious tone, "But even greater. Imagine beings far older, far more powerful. Who wait and look upon us, the entire galaxy, with sinister intent. Ready to reap what they have sown!"

"Williams!"

"What, Averil?" yelled Williams as he walked back to stand at Averil's left.

Averil stood up, pointing at him in anger, "Why were you about to tell him that? That information is completely classified. You can't tell him!"

Williams yelled back, "And why not? The bird here has nothing left. Nothing to distract and hold him back. Free to fly…" he looked at Junius for a moment, then turned back, "Or something. That's gives him more qualification than most for Section 14."

Junius stood up, equally confused and annoyed by what was happening. "What do you mean? What is this Section 14? I thought I was being convinced just to join your federation, a very convoluted one at that."

Averil put his hand up at Junius, still looking to Williams, "This does not concern you. Forget any mention of what you just heard."

"Do not speak over my authority, Averil! As its leader, I will decide who I want!"

"You're insane! You want an alien? In Section 14! They were right about what they said about you!"

Williams slammed his fist on the table, "I knew it! Who the hell were you talking to? I heard the conversation. I won't allow traitors in this group!"

"How dare you call us traitors! The moment First Contact happens and you're now ready to hand it over to aliens? He and the entire galaxy don't know what we know. They can't help us!"

"We can't stop them!" Williams turned away and clenched his forehead before turning backs to point at him, "Damn it, this is why we need this. We can get the galaxy ready! Why can't you realize that, Averil? Humanity can't stop the Reapers by itself!"

"We won't be able to stop them if you let this… rubbish into the Federation. The Terran race is strong!"

Williams laughed at his face before he continued, "The Terran race! What fucking race? What are you, a human supremacist?"

Averil slammed his own desk, "I believe in Terran Supremacy! Look at what we have accomplished! Our first war and we're on the verge of total victory. Hackett's raid proved the galactic Council doesn't have what it takes to stop us. It is destiny!"

"It's complete luck!" said Williams, a look of bewilderment across his face.

"Humanity is pre-ordained! We are right! Our might shall conquer the galaxy. Like the Protheans, we'll make the galaxy serve our might and our cause!" He quickly pulled out his Phalanx from an open drawer, prompting Williams to do the same with his old revolver. Junius took a step back, accidentally falling into his seat.

"What in the Spirits is this?"

"Williams. I won't let you do this. We won't let you do this. Section 14 has ensured Humanity's survival and prosperity."

"So what? Is this a coup? Are you going to kill me? I may have made the mistake of letting your rebel group exist, but Harper and the others will stop you!"

"We shall exterminate them and all of the Terran Federation shall benefit from it. I'll kill you, then kill your pet metal bird here, and frame it on him. When everyone hears of the Turian admiral who killed the famed Terran general… Well, I guess I'll be leading my ships straight to Palaven!"

"Are all you humans insane?" yelled Junius.

"Probably," said Williams, calmly with a smile on his face as he shrugged his shoulders, "But unlike this idiot, there's a damn good reason I lead Section 14!"

"What the hell could tha…"

* * *

Two Marines came in through the thick olive green fiber flaps and metal sheet covers, both of them dragging a Batarian on each arm. Each officer quickly holstered his weapon in order to avoid attention.

They dropped him on the ground and saluted the two flag officers. "General Williams, Admiral Averil. We captured this high ranking Batarian admiral at this manor flat, fifteen kilometers from here."

"Thank you, Corporal. Just place him on that seat," said Williams, "Admiral Averil and I shall interrogate him."

They picked up the Batarian, only half dressed and lacking a shirt, and dropped him on the seat next to Junius. As they left and closed the flaps, Junius looked at him then his eyes widened and he dropped his jaw and mandibles in shock.

"You! I-I… I killed you!"

The Batarian turned to him and growled, "All you did was give me a sore neck… damn bird."

Junius crossed his arms, "I was not going to join you in a perverted threesome with Terme! This isn't the academy!"

"You can go to hell."

"So can you!"

Williams added on, "I can make sure of that."

He quickly pulled out his revolver and took aim at the Batarian. The Batarian rose off his hands. But before Williams fired, he adjusted his aim then fired, grazing Junius instead in the left arm. He turned to Averil, who quickly pulled out his own weapon. Averil fired first, hitting Williams in his left shoulder. Williams, unable to raise his revolver in time, took aim at a metal shelf case at the corner of Averil's office. He fired, the .45 colt round ricocheting off the metal frame and back, hitting Averil in the head. As Averil's body fell to the ground, Williams emptied his chamber and tossed the gun at the Batarian, who stood up and foolishly caught it. He then stumbled into another metal shelf behind him as the Marines rushed in at the sound of gunshots.

Williams, grasping his wound, looked to them. "That bastard overpowered us, open fire damn it!"

Before the Batarian could tell what was happening, the Marines raised their Lancer rifles and fired, unloading hundreds of marble rounds into him, propelling him over Averil's desk and onto the ground behind it.

"General Williams, are you alright?"

"Of course not. Get a medic for all of us!"

"Yes, sir!"

They rushed out, closing the flaps once more. Williams turned to Junius, who was grasping his own wound.

"What the hell was that all about?" yelled Junius as he continued to cringe in pain.

"It's called 'creating an open seat'!" Williams chuckled as he sat down in Averil's seat, before searching for bandages in the drawer. "Junius, you've seen the others. They have seen what we have done. They look on in wonder of Humanity, of the Terrans. But you know better. We're just a bunch of dim witted chimps from some insignificant blue dot in the backwaters of the galaxy."

"I agree. Now make your point before I bleed out, Williams. At my age, I don't have a lot of blood to lose."

Williams found some bandages in a drawer and threw them to him. He continued as Junius wrapped his grazed arm to block the blue blood.

"But we know what's really going on. Something far bigger than us or the Council, or anything you've ever heard of." He wrapped his own wound, chewing off the excess before tying it down. "We don't know what to do, we don't know how to do so. But we'll do something. We'll make the galaxy ready."

"For these… what?"

Williams sat back, "All shall be revealed in time. But Junius… would you like to join us?"

"I see little benefit from simply helping Humanity. It's very clear you don't have your affairs in order."

"Neither does anyone else," Williams sat up and leaned over to him, "I'm not here to ask for your help to save Humanity. I want you to help us save the entire galaxy! Every race has something to lose, but they have everything to lose if we fail."

Junius finished tying down his bandage and looked to Williams. "Spirits… Yesterday I was a simple slave, planning a banquet…"

"Decades before, you were one of the highest ranking admirals in the galaxy. Millions at your disposal, the protector of a galactic civilization. Would you like to be one again? Serve the galaxy, ours and yours."

Junius stared at him, taking slow, deep breaths as he thought it through. Williams waited patiently, knowing his answer, willing to let him take the time to say it. Junius thought about the aspect of having a returned rank. He didn't want it. But he wanted what the rank could give him.

"I'll join your band, your…"

"Section 14. If the Federation is a bright torch blinded by its own self-appointed righteousness; then we are its shadow, the darkness guiding her for her survival and prosperity. We need those who can do what is needed. We could use a man like you."

As Williams slowly stood up and walked over to Averil's body, Junius answered.

"But don't think you have me figured out, Williams." He said as he adjusted his bandage.

"How so?" He asked as he knelt down next to the body, examining it.

"I am not without anything left from my past, from my life before… I have two things left from my old life, which I want to see again. A son, who most likely doesn't even know I'm his father. And a friend, whose spikes I'll rip off his head and use gorge his eyes out. Promise me them. And you'll have my help, whatever that may be."

"Done!" He grabbed the golden hollow bar off of Averil's collar, four solid circle pips in it, and his Naval hat, and stood back up. He walked back and sat down, throwing the hat to Junius.

"Whether as a guest or a conqueror, you shall see Palaven one day. Welcome to the Federation…" He then threw him the rank insignia, "And to Section 14, Admiral Marcus Junius."

He sighed as he examined it, "If only we had brandy to celebrate."

Williams reached over and grabbed his revolver, examining the condition of his prized weapon before holstering it.

"A drink would be nice… I hope you're willing to work with the Quarians."

"I… am too old to hate."

Williams grasped his shoulder, massaging the pain, "That's what they all say."

A Marine and the AI doctor rushed into the tent. Williams looked to them. "About time! Averil is dead!" Williams backed his seat up and looked at the body. He only felt a bit remorseful, but all the more cold. "The poor bastard."

* * *

 _Terran Wikipedia_

 _(By the Authority of the Federal Communications Committee, this document has been doctored and monitored in accordance to the 'Orwellian Freedom Act' to ensure non-biased and informative information for the Terran People.)_

 _ **Renaud Averil:**_

 _ **Born:**_ _25 August 2090; Vieux Lyon, Lyon, France, Greater European Union._

 _ **Death:**_ _6 June 2167; Base Hotel, Camala, Batarian Hegemony (Age: 77)_

 _ **Allegiance:**_ _United Terran Federation; Greater European Union (Before Unification)_

 _ **Service:**_ _United Terran Navy, KIA;_

 _ **Years of Service:**_ _Euro Marine Corp (2108-2125); United Terran Marine Corp (2125-2150); United Terran Navy (2150-2167); Terran Military Intelligence (2145-2167)._

 _ **Rank:**_ _Admiral, Marine Admiral (informal)_

 _ **Battles/Wars:**_

2130s Colonial Rebellions

The Great Revival:

 _Martian Fleetyard Bombings_

 _Occupation of New Yugoslavia_

 _Euro/Alliance Border Skirmishes_

 _Defense of Warsaw_

 _Liberation of Moscow_

 _Congo Campaign_

 _'Fallen Angel' Deployment_

 _Order Restoration Campaign_

2150s Death World Exploration Campaigns

Skyllian Blitz:

 _Invasion of Rigeno_

 _Invasion of Camala_

 _ **Awards:**_

 _Medal of the Nation's Gratitude (France)_

 _Service to the Union Award (European)_

 _Terran Marine Medal of Valor_

 _Terran Silver Star Medal_

 _Terran Scutum de Terra_

 _Terran Ascending Angel Cross, 3rd Class_

 _(Posthumously) Terran Congressional Star of Terra_

 _Renaud Averil was a former admiral serving in the Terran Second Fleet. Born in the countryside of France at the twilight of the century, he served at the European Unified Marine Corp under the French Division. After Unification, he served under the Terran Marine Corp and served as Captain Darya's security officer on the Saint Petersburg. He later served as the Commander of French forces during the order restoration of Europe at the end of the Great Revival. He was promoted to vice admiral and was transferred into the Navy, becoming the Second Fleet's naval correspondent for Military Intelligence._

 _After Unification, he served as the Marine detail for then Captain Anna Darya during the off relay expedition. When only three of twelve EX class starships returned, he reported that mysterious spatial storms struck across the entire region of space, as also indicated by Darya, Grissom, and Bowman. This resulted in the end of extensive off relay expeditions. Afterwards, he helped defend the ship when colonial pirates attempted to take the ship in the forties._

 _He then served on Earth in the Great Revival and was awarded for protecting civilians when KCC forces clashed with the Terran Militia in central Europe. He would go on to fight and lead Marine forces throughout Eastern Europe against rebel and communist forces and served with the 18th Militia Army in the liberation of Moscow during Operation_ Rusted Steel _. He later led strike forces in Central Africa in defense of the Historic Pan-African Union Space Elevator before fighting up north to secure the Suez Canal with Field Marshall Williams._

 _After the Revival, he was given the offer of promotion and was transferred into the Navy as a rear admiral. There he worked with Central Military Intelligence and working with FIA forces during minor colonial rebellions with Admiral Woods and General Williams. He then was given the duty as the main intelligence officer for the Second Fleet during the major expansion of the Death Worlds campaign._

 _During the Skyllian Blitz, he organized the capture of the 3rd Batarian fleet over Rigeno. He then landed on the Batarian world of Camala at the fifth day of the war. During an interrogation between him, General Williams, a captured Council diplomat and a captured Hegemony admiral, the Batarian officer overpowered Williams and shot all three of them. Williams and the diplomat were injured, but Averil was killed while preventing him from killing the others. Marines later killed the Batarian._

 _For saving Williams and the key Council diplomat, he will be posthumously awarded the Terran Congressional Star of Terra and is to be given to his next of kin on Resiliency Day..._

 _Last Edited 30 July 2167 12:34 UTC_

* * *

 _ **NBC War Correspondent;**_ _Special Report; June 30, 2167_

 _ **Inter-service Rivalry: Part One**_

"Never have I seen it before. Americans, Europeans, Russians, Asians, Africans; all of them working together in a coherent unit towards a common goal. That goal? To tell their Army and Marine counterparts to screw off!" – Admiral Albert Donnelly, on the early Terran Navy

 _The existing inter-service rivalry is considered by social and military analysts as one of the most interesting aspects of the United Terran Military. In a broader aspect, it is now considered one of the greatest human experiments since the Colonial Golden Age of the 2140s. A rather common phenomenon, given human history, our researches have read that the idea is actually rare among the major powers of the galaxy. Based on Quarian records, major militaries like the Turian Hierarchy have little in the way of inter-service rivalry. This is due to the unified training of Turian conscripts for five years before choosing their service branch. However, rivalry between the armed forces of allying races of the greater Council is far more common. Some believe the internal strife between the Council militaries to be the reason why the Citadel Council as a whole has yet to send major forces against us._

 _For Humanity and the Terran Federation, it is a natural occurrence. It is also a mandated phenomenon orchestrated to unite the varying forces of the old Earth nation-states into a unified military force. When the militaries of the nation states on Earth merged into the Terran Military, the risk of in fighting from different nationalities was considered the largest threat to the young Federation. As part of an elaborate plan, the modern inter-service rivalry was born. Instead of each branch being divided early by the different national identities in them, loyal military officers and Founders rallied their respective forces to compete on the lines for the four branches of the military. Thomas Keith Anderson, the head Founder and First Terran President who organized this after the passing of the Militarization Act, won the Nobel Peace Prize for it. As cited by Founder and former Bishop Enterprises CEO Althea Bishop, he succeeded in making humans 'look beyond their old nationality and find more noble reasons to hate one another'._

 _Based on research and interviews on the subject, below are the details of the key aspects, and driven rivalry concerns of each branch._

 _The_ _ **Terran Navy**_ _is the largest branch of the military. Of the approximately two hundred and seventy million in service, the Navy has the largest personnel count at one hundred and eighty million. Having benefited the most from the 2135 Militarization Act, they receive the largest budget, and proportional size gives them a controlling voice in Military Command. They have also been tasked with the main exploration of the unknown galaxy and have the loosest military tradition, having personnel of varying fields and backgrounds for numerous assignments._

 _Their rivalry with the Army and Marines stems from the fact that most of their ships are assigned mainly as transport and support duty during wartime. They are not happy with the stereotype that the Navy recruits from the most ineligible candidates out of desperation for personnel. The Terran Navy does have the loosest qualifications of joining and is the only branch that allows convicts to serve in lieu of time on a penal colony. Ironically, many convicts would rather go through a lengthy prison detail in a safe, modern correctional facility than serve a far shorter time on a naval vessel._

 _All personnel of all ranks are known to receive the lowest pay in the military. The position of fleet admiral, which is considered to be one of the highest-ranking positions in the entire military, has the same pay grade as an ensign. Combined with being under staffed and having to still take command of their own vessel, the near impossibility of holding the rank was to ensure high turn over rates during peace time and prevent abuse of power. In general, serving in the Navy also has the stigma of being considered desperate, insane, or suicidal, though the reasons these stigmas have existed have long since been fixed._

 _The_ _ **Terran Army**_ _is the main ground and planetary force of the military. They have twenty-five million soldiers on duty. With numerous colonial rebellions and the Great Revival being a groundside affair, their upper officer corps is the most experienced in recent times. The Terran Army is more traditionalist in organization. Unlike the more liberal Navy and its focus on generalization as a military and an exploration force, the Army is a full military force focused on the offensive and defensive might of the nation._

 _Receiving a decent sized budget, they spend it mainly on technological equipment to allow effective management and expeditionary occupation. Inheriting old knowledge from the nation states it composes of, the Army is trained in being an effective occupational force. Much of the military R &D budget goes to Army development. The Army is also home to the elite B7 Special Forces. Their rivalry with the Navy is due to the fact that without Navy transport, the Army is nearly useless as an offensive force, a fact that they do not like to admit._

 _They have a rivalry with the Marines since Terran Offensive Doctrine states that Marines land first and Army after. The Skyllian Blitz showcased this, with Army forces constantly being left behind to occupy instead of attack with the rest of the Fleet. Because of this and the general strategy of having the Army occupy and control the local populace, Army soldiers statistically saw the least amount of combat during the entire war. Their constant experiments with new equipment like mech drone soldiers and AI combat personnel integration have led to the label that they waste their time on new equipment and 'toys' than doing any fighting._

 _The_ _ **Terran Marine Corp**_ _is the main integrated space and planetary fighting force of the military. Statistically, their ranks and files have seen more combat in the past twenty years than any other branch since the Great Revival. Integrated under the Department of the Navy, Marine personnel is trained in space combat and in offensive planetary assault. Their military doctrine and strategy makes them skilled in bringing about the overwhelming offensive might of their forces onto an enemy. Media attention has given the Marines the most positive publicity, and in turn has they have the highest standards in recruitment._

 _Their rivalry with the Army comes from the fact they are by doctrine placed first into combat and never allowed to serve as an occupational force for the land they take, resulting in constant high stress environments and somewhat larger casualties. They have a well-known, bitter hatred of their Navy parent. The Marines have no brass officers, being under official control of the Admiralty. Their officer corps is considered a dead end career, ending either being stuck at colonel, or having to file an official transfer to the Navy if offered promotion. Instead of general, Marine brass officers are admirals, though they distinguish themselves with the title "Marine Admiral"._

 _The Navy views them with contempt, the saying "My Ass Really Is Navy Equipment" being a popular acronym for Marine. The Army hates being in the public shadow of the Marines; the 2159 war film "Hell Divers" popularized the term "The Marines fight and liberate; the Army sits on their asses and occupies, space and all". They are also angry that the Marines were allowed to form the N7 Special Forces, who are unfairly viewed as knock offs of the B7s, even though a quarter of them are voluntary transfers from the B7s. It is believed the Army works with the Navy to blatantly keep the Marines from becoming an independent branch. Inter-service rivalry traditions dictate this as being the only thing an Army solider and a Navy sailor can agree on._

 _The_ _ **Terran National Guard**_ _is the main defensive force of the states and colonial territory of the Federation. Unlike the versions of the old Earth nation states, the National Guard consists of three separate branches, an Army, a Marine, and a Navy force. This is due to the fact that there is no official reserve force for the main military. If any branch requires additional personnel during offensive warfare, they draw directly from the National Guard. In defense of the nation, they act as a separate military force, under the command by their corresponding state or territory._

 _While they recruit for enlisted positions, their officers are drawn directly from the main military. For the Army, senior officers nearing retirement are transferred to command forces under a state of their choice. For the Marines, it is a well-fought position. National Guard Marine Flag Officers are officially generals, not admirals. There is no real defined border for the Navy though. Officers go back and forth constantly as assigned. Freshly graduated officers for command duty are normally given a National Guard ship to command before being transferred back into the Navy._

 _The State of United Sol has no National Guard Navy. All space defense is under the Sol Fleet. Most rivalry between them and the main branches is normally on the enlisted level, due to National Guard soldiers being referred to as 'weekend warriors' and normally receiving older equipment. Ironically, the National Guard Army and Navy have higher recruitment standards…_

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Trust me,  
The annual football games (Both American and Intergalactic version)  
between the Terran military branches are really competitive.

On a serious note,  
 _"Humanity plans to unite all the galaxy,_  
 _But deep within,_  
 _They face the greatest division of all."_

Thanks again for reading.  
Keep on following,  
And always feel free to review.

The War isn't over yet.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\


	13. 12: The enemy of my enemy

**Chapter Twelve: The enemy of my enemy.**

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Let me ask you something,

"The Shepard"  
The legend of a heroic figure from long ago.  
Whoever your Shepard was, they were one heck of an individual,  
leading the entire galaxy against the threat of the Reapers.

But legends of the past  
are never quite accurate.

One person can do so much,  
but not everything.

So I ask,  
of the person who lead the finest team in the galaxy,  
who stopped the Reapers' insidious plots,  
who's past was debated on whether they were  
a **Hero** , a **Butcher** , or simply a **Survivor** ,  
A **Paragon** who upheld the best ideals of humanity  
or a **Renegade** that did whatever it took to save us all.

Could 'The Shepard' have really just been one person?

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

* * *

 **Part 1:**

 **Chairman Kavos - Torfan Bunker - a day after the end of the Skyllian Blitz  
June 8, 2167 01:00:00 UTC**

" _Surveyor One, nothing on scanners to report for E-11."_

" _Affirmative Surveyor One, continued deeper in the marked engineering section."_

" _Roger Torfan Command. Proceeding into section E-13. Bypassing E-12, scanners report radiation spike."_

Deep underground on a small moon at the outskirts of Hegemony space, the last of the Hegemony government bunkered down. Hidden away from the Federation's brutal liberation, the remaining few were still lead by their 'Great' Chairman Kavos. Less than a galactic week ago, he had found the true enemy of the Hegemony, who destroyed a small colony and caused what was once the worse war in the history of the Hegemony. A few days later, he was what was remaining from a war far worse; all of his own doing.

Kavos and the remaining flag officers stood there and listened as the recording played. For the past few months, he had been betting the hopes of the Hegemony military on this mysterious artifact Edan Had'dah found. It was to have the secrets to give them the fighting edge against the Council, power and technology beyond their control. Now his hopes were dashed that it would save them from a far greater threat.

It was a simple monitoring transmission, recordings of a surveyor team's audio record as they surveyed the ruins. After they heard the sound of them cutting through a bulkhead into the next section, they heard a conversation among two of the surveyors.

" _This place creeps the hell out of me."_

" _Agreed, sir. Reminds me of the ancient temple of Luvcaf in Provin Valley."_

" _Yah, I heard of the scary stuff they did before the Hegemony. Worshipping their 'Dead God'."_

" _Who answered their prayers beyond death? Thank the Great Chairman, they exterminated that messed up cult."_

" _So, any plans after we are done with this place?"_

" _I got approved for shore leave after this."_

" _Really? Lucky. Where?"_

 _"Have you heard of Camala?"_

" _Camala? Ha, nothing but desert and raw eezo. I have a sister there actually. Married to some fat aristocrat and has this bratty kid. But man, that bastard Edan. He knows how to throw a party…"_

" _Drugs from the far reaches of the Terminus, the finest liquor from the across the galaxy, and a beautiful Asari slave named Tarme?"_

" _How did you know about her?"_

" _That's… that's my memory. Edan is my brother-in-law!"_

" _What? No, he… I still remember their wedding, the… party…"_

" _Sir, are you alright?"_

" _My head… my thoughts… too… cluttered."_

" _Sir, what are you saying? What, Rafal? Command, Major Hessian and Corporeal Rafel have collapsed, requesting… requesting medical evac…"_

The recording ended. Kavos stood there at the end of the table. In the small control room in the deepest part of the bunker, he stared down at the command table, hiding in distress. Scattered about were small holographic pieces representing what remaining ship squadrons they had. The table displaying the whole of Hegemony space on its surface, the line between Hegemony and Federation growing smaller as the red highlighted Terran control area grew larger by the moment. He looked up to his admirals and generals.

"Did we send a retrieval team?" asked Kavos.

A general responded, "Yes, sir. Two squads of Special Intervention Units. They were…"

"Were what?" he asked with an aggressive tone.

"We have a full holo recording of Sung and Un squads' insertion."

They all looked to the center of the table, where a holographic display of the squads' insertion was played. The hologram showed them cutting through the same bulkhead that the first team went into, having been mysteriously repaired. As they looked around, another officer reported in.

" _Major Jang'il. Sung squad in proceeding. Un squad has taken point…  
No sight of Team One…"_

They watched as the squad advanced on the gangway inside the artifact. A loud moaning of the metal wreck rang out, but the squad was unfazed. But it was the faint, but too clear sound of a high pitch yell that deep down shock them a bit.

" _Command, we have found some of Team One's equipment…"_

The Batarian solider suddenly took cover with his squad as gunfire erupted. They fired outside their recoding as some of Un squad retreated to their position.

" _Contact! Hostiles have us surrounded.  
Return point has been cut off."_

" _This is Command. Report on enemy sighting."_

" _They appear to be some kind of… skinny husk creature. Grey skin and blue eyes…"_

One came into view for the officers to see as it jumped on top of the officer. The husk tried to mall him, but the elite trained solider quickly overpowered it and used his power armor to crush his head. He got back up and continued reporting as he leveled his rifle and fired.

" _This goo, organic like, but with many synthetic qualities."_

" _Report, goo substance? Like Geth?"_

" _No, its… confirm, it is organic, but not natural… Contact, right side, right side!"_

" _What Sung? Report."_

" _New enemy troops have entered, dropped from above….  
Different profile, grotesque creatures with large hunchback deformation…  
Great Stalkim's ghost! They're absorbing bio-mass from the fallen husk for energy…"_

On the holoscreen, one of those cannibals fired a few bio-frag grenades at the SIU's position. They ducked and avoided the blast, but in the confusion, the cannibal charged at the officer. Unlike the husk, each one traded blow after blow as each one tried to overpower the other; the cannibal trying to aim it's arm cannon at the officer as he tried to push it away. All the while, Kavos looked on in horror as he zoomed the holo image at the cannibal's face. Four hollowed out eyes with a deep dark blue glow, but all the other features, they were the same. The office finally got the upper hand and killed it with a stab with a dual-omniblade as the remains of the squad circled up.

" _Command, Command!"_

" _Yes Sung?"_

" _These creatures. Their tattered clothing… They're Team One!"_

" _What?"_

" _Whatever the hell is in here, they turned Team One into these monsters. Requesting reinforcements, we're about to be overrun…"_

The recording ended. Kavos continued to stare on in horror as the officers looked away, having seen the recording earlier. In a switch, Kavos started yelling.

"Why the hell was I not informed of this?"

An admiral responded, "Chairman Kavos. This was recorded nearly a week ago, just after you were informed of the aliens at the Citadel."

"First those damn humans, now this… wait, where the hell did Had'dah find the _Leviathan of Dis_?"

Another general answered the chairman, "Sir, Mr. Had'dah reported he found this during a deep, off relay expedition nearly a year ago. It took him months to rig a special FTL rig to transport it here. Even borrowed a dreadnought in the process."

"Open the galaxy map! I want to see where he found it!"

The map opened up, showing their segment of the galaxy. From the lines showing Hegemony space, the map pinpointed where Edan found the _Leviathan_. It was far off from a remote relay, which itself was far from Hegemony space and in the open area of the Traverse.

Kavos looked up at the map, before noticing something.

"Computer, access all intelligence and display the border of the human's Federation!" He ordered, placing an emphasis of disgust as he said the word 'human'.

The computer complied and overlapped Federation space borders. There, at the edge of Federation space, far from even their remote colonies, was where the _Leviathan_ was found. As soon as Kavos saw it, he yelled out in fury as he slammed his fist on the table.

"The humans! They created this… thing! I knew they were a danger to us. But they created this thing to destroy us!"

"But sir, we only found it recently. The effects of this thing could take years…"

"Effect? Have we found what caused… whatever the hell that was? We all boarded that thing. Are we at risk?"

"Our exposer was short, sir. I don't think we are in danger. We canceled all other surveys and sealed the artifact shut," replied an admiral.

"And the other surveyor teams? I want them put in quarantine. With guards!"

Another general replied, "They are no longer a problem."

"How so?"

"They were not evacuated from Khar'shan with us, sir. We can presume they are now dead by the humans' doing."

"Speaking of which. Those ships we used. They won't be able to track us?"

"No sir. The stealth ships were straight from Salarian Research and Development. The human Federation will never find us here."

Kavos thought for a moment as he planned his next move. He turned around and walked to the large, panoramic viewport. He looked out, where the wide-open viewport gave the entire command room a wide open view of a deep cavern. He stared out at it for a moment.

"We will rebuild." He turned around and walked back to the table, "Move our ships away from _Leviathan_ and position them along the moon. We won't spend another moment with that human trap!"

"Yes, sir!" replied the flag officers

"And our, 'guest'?"

"The ambassadors have been locked away, along with the Council service men we rescued."

Kavos nodded. There was nothing the Hegemony could do now. He knew it. But he could still try to stop the humans.

"Good, I'll speak with them immediately."

* * *

 **Part 2:**

 **Admiral Roland - FSS _Brighton_ \- Khar'shan  
June 8, 2167 05:00:00 UTC**

Roland laughed as he continued his video call with his wife while over orbit of Khar'shan. He seemed to be growing just a bit tired. But after nearly two days of non-stop management of the invasion of an alien home world, he was doing his best to show less of his actual condition. Working himself up and bringing up the past and the Revival wouldn't help either. Debra could tell he was growing weary in age.

"So I trust everything there is fine?" She asked from her office in New York.

He drank down a bottle of water on his desk in his quarters and replied, "Of course, dear. I stared down an alien with double the eyes and won!" He then sighed, "It's been a week, though."

"Oh yes. I haven't seen this amount of turbulence in New York since Bishop reappeared in full support of Bowman's election."

"Speaking of the past…" He clenched his eyes and rubbed them as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his desk. He yawned, and then moaned as he lost his chain of thought. "What…?"

Debra responded quickly, "Andrew, are you all right?"

He looked back up, "Wha? Yah, yah I'm fine. I didn't undergo three years of psychiatric treatment on Eden just to relapse now."

She grumbled, worried, "I wouldn't want you in the same shape you and the others like Bowman were after the Revival."

He stared for a moment, remembering how nearly lost his mind after the bombing. He rubbed his eyes for a moment before remembering the real reason of Bowman's stressed induced condition.

"Yah, the war… It took a bit out of everyone."

"Yes it did."

She could tell her husband was thinking of something else. She had just learned recently that he knew of the Bowman's voyage. She felt bad, not that she knew of it since the Revival, but that her husband didn't know she knew also.

Roland smiled a bit and changed the topic. "How's Josh?"

"The General is fine. Last I heard, he, Mom, and baby Joey were discussing the finer points of the Army's deployment." She replied with enthusiasm. "Nothing but criticism for Williams."

"How did the daughter of an Army family become a congresswoman?" He asked before chuckling.

She gave a quick snip back, "How did the son of a famous British Marine family join the Navy?"

He shook his head and smiled as he rubbed his forehead. He then gave out a loud, long yawn before running his red eyes some more.

"You should sleep now. I think your job is over."

"And you, Debra?"

"Still the same shit here in New York. Getting Guzman and Kelso to do what I want."

"Guzman is the party whip, and Kelso is one of the most powerful political AIs in New York."

She titled her head and gave a fake face of confusion. "And I care why?"

He burst out in laughter before growing more exhausted, "God I love you. See you in New York then?"

"The ceremony is in Washington actually."

He rolled his eyes, "Of course, because America rules the galaxy."

"Sweet dreams, Andrew."

The call ended. Roland turned of his screen and stood up, slowly lurched his way to his bed. He fell in and quickly fell asleep. Only a few minutes in though, the day was only beginning.

"Admiral Roland, sir."

He rolled around in his bed, reaching for his comm device. He quickly over shot and fell on to the ground, startling him to quickly jump up in a fighting stance. He shook his head and snapped out, and grabbed his comm.

"Yes Hanson, what is it?" he said as he sat back down on his bed.

"We have a problem. Report from Military Intelligence. You may want to see it for yourself."

He rubbed his eyes and placed the comm back on the table. "I'm sure you, Rodriguez, and Villyard handle it." He then laid back down. "Now unless Bowman or Debra calls, bugger off."

"Uh, well. We had a confirmation from Intelligence…The Hegemony Chairman is alive."

He moaned for a moment before responding, "Yes, I threatened to nuke Khar'shan if he didn't surrender…" He looked at a clock next to his bed, "Twelve hours ago." He laid back down, waiting for the call to end.

"Not him, sir. The actual one. Ut'lok Kavos. We have reports indicating we didn't actually kill him or the Hegemony Brass. They're now in exile."

Roland closed his eyes and exhaled as he began to rest again. He thought for a moment. Then it suddenly hit him as he quickly got up and ran to the door, grabbing his coat.

* * *

 **Part 3:**

 **General Williams - FSS _Brighton_ \- Khar'shan  
** **June 8, 2167 06:00:00 UTC**

Williams continued down the hallway, looking at data on the holoscreen being projected from his watch. As he finished his cup of coffee, he finished through looking data he obtained days earlier. He shook his head in disbelief over what he read, trying to hold his excitement in as he laughed a bit to himself. It made killing one of his highest ranked agents and the wound in his arm worth it.

"The four eyes had the freaking Holy Grail and didn't know any better!" He smiled as he finished his cup and gave it to a Marine standing guard at the _Brighton_ 's conference room. "Just amazing. I can't believe we didn't find it first."

He arrived and assembled with the other Army officers at the conference table.

Roland finally arrived in the private conference room under the bridge, his coat over his shoulders as he entered while still dressed in evening attire. Across the table were his upper admiralty staff, twenty admirals along with the visiting Army and Marine staff. He sat down and signaled Hanson to begin with the meeting.

He stood up and began typing as he addressed the staff. "Admirals, generals. Twelve hours ago, we…"

"Skip to the part that matters. We were all there," said Roland.

"Yes, well. After the surrender, Williams' Blue Beret forces were sent into the ruins of the capital to confirm the bunker was destroyed. What they found was something different. Several starship launch ports, open and only recently used." He opened a map of the Hasha System. "During the battle with the Council, they launched several ships and alluded our sensors. And that of the Council's."

Villyard turned to him, "How is that possible? Our hyperspace or infrared scanners should have seen them!"

"Well, sir. Special forces are saying they have stealth ships."

General Zhao spoke out, "Stealth in space? Like a cloaking device?"

"Cloaking device, interesting… Oh no, no. I should answer that," said Williams, who took command of the holo display. A ship appeared of Batarian design, but with many different variation features from normal Hegemony ship. "The Berets managed to download data from their computers. They have special heat syncs that absorb heat naturally given out by the ship. They are also using a completely new form of mass effect engines to move the ship without thrusters. With no heat signature, we can't detect them with short or long range sensors."

"What about LADAR pings?" asked LeBeau.

"That can only work within a thousand kilometers, the beam dissipates afterwards. They appear to have also flown close to the battle site against the Council Fleet though. They must have employed chaffs to block our pings."

"There is no way the Batarians have that level of tech. I'm certain even we don't have that kind of tech either," said Roland.

"No. But based on what we got from the Batarians and data we got from the raid on the Citadel, the Council has that type of capability, in development anyway. In summary, they stole it from the Salarians, who stole the special FTL drive from the Turians, who stole the mass effect knowledge from the Asari, who most likely got it from the Protheans through some ruins."

Roland slammed his fist on the table, "Well everyone? Where are they? It is now the top priority of the Second Fleet to find and apprehend them. If surrendering Hegemony forces get word they are alive, this war will spark back up like a wildfire!"

"Do not worry, Admiral. My forces have begun investigating and we have been able to create a basic trajectory of where they went."

The hologram changed, changing into a map of the Hegemony space. Four lines appeared, connecting from the Hasha system and into three more star clusters.

"According to Williams, we have recovered trails of massatanium that are consistent and do not match any ship we have encountered. They all lead to this empty system overlooked at the start of the war," said Hanson.

"I see. Villyard, send a flotilla in. I want the damn Chairman, now!"

As the rest of the officers begin to converse on the next step of plan, Williams spoke out.

"Admiral Roland. This matter is of the highest importance. We must be fast if we are to find the planet they are on and take it before they rally a government in exile."

Roland stood up, "And what do you propose, Williams?"

"As the head of Unified Military Intelligence, I know where to strike and how. As an official, and personal, request, give me Averil's ships and Marines. I'll have this last attempt of resistance crushed before Bowman even knows."

"Give Averil's flotilla to the Army?"

He chuckled as he held his hands out, "Please, Roland? I'm the man you want to take on what is most likely the best the Hegemony has to offer."

Williams smiled as he stared at Rolamd and tapped his chest full of ribbons. On his left chest over his standard operational uniform of green and blue camouflage, it consisted of the top nine ribbons, three rows with three rectangular ribbons in each column. The Terran military did not like the unwarranted flashing of medals or awards. The Army technically had the most, capped at nine, while the only way to tell the difference between a new ensign and an elder fleet admiral in Naval blues was to stare at the small rank insignia on their neck. For Williams, on top of them all in the center column was a blue one with five vertical green stripes, his Star of Terra award.

Though at his age and the things he had been through, he couldn't care less for any of it. "Unlike the bastard that killed Averil, I earned all the pieces of metal on my chest."

Roland looked on, beyond his smile were the cold calculating eyes of who was considered one of the most mysterious officer in the entire Terran military. It wasn't long for him to conclude he had ulterior motives, but he relented. If there was one Army jock he wasn't going to mess with, it was Williams. Williams knew that very well also.

Roland leaned over the table, "Fine. Take the ships. I want this handled by day's end. Understood?"

Williams quickly nodded to him, "Yes, Admiral. We aim to please."

As Williams and the other Army officers left from the other door, Roland began to leave as well. "Hanson, don't bother me again."

"Sir, it's already seven hundred hours. You are to meet with the new occupation government."

"Villyard, deal with it."

He left promptly, taking his coat as he made his way to bed.

The rest of the admirals turned to Villyard, who sighed at the task at hand. He thought for a moment as he rolled his fingers on the desk.

"Talking to the four eyes… I'm going to need my glasses."

* * *

 **Part 4:**

 **Chairman Kavos - Torfan Bunker  
June 8, 2167 12:00:00 UTC**

"You must believe me!"

"And why the hell should we?" yelled the Turian ambassador as she, the Asari and Salarian ambassadors struggled about, tied up on the ground.

"The humans are the real enemy!" yelled Kavos as he walked around them. In a small supply room in the deeper part of the bunker, Kavos continued pleading with the Council ambassadors. "It's all their fault, for everything!"

"What do you mean?" asked the Salarian as he continued to undo his restraints.

Next to Kavos, the Batarian ambassador for the Council spoke, greater in passion than the Chairman. Naturally, since the Terrans had claimed more from him on a personal level.

"You've seen the destruction they have wrought. They have destroyed our worlds, our capital! They are slaughtering my people! But this isn't the first time."

"The first time?" asked the Asari, scared and confused, "We all made First Contact with them just days ago."

Kavos answered, "Aratoht! Do you remember Aratoht?"

The Turian moaned in annoyance, "Not that again."

He quickly knelt down and got his face right in hers, "It wasn't you... It never was. Great Stalkim, if only we realized it sooner. It was the humans! They wandered about, found our colony, destroyed it with weapons beyond any of our capabilities, then retreated back into the Traverse. Now they're back, ready to destroy us all."

The Turian ambassador stared at him, growing annoyed by the insane story of the Chairman. She blew air at Kavos' face to get him to back up, then spoke.

"So these humans caused the war and are here to finish the job? How can we help you? They destroyed half of the fleet meant to rescue us! You are dead!"

Kavos shouted at her, his deep voice suddenly increasing in pitch to near screeching levels. He began to shake, his eyes flashed momentarily in a haunting dark blue glow. In a sudden fit of rage, he grabbed the Turian by her neck and picked her up, before slamming her into the concrete bunker wall.

He squeezed his hand around her throat and shouted, his voice mixed with a corrupted synthetic tone as the Turian struggled about.

"I will not lay down and die! The humans must be stopped! You will help us!"

He suddenly lost his composure and stumbled back, dropping the ambassador. The Batarian ambassador caught him before he regained come form of consciousness and looked about. All the while, the other ambassadors looked back at their Turian colleague as she struggled and gasped for air. Kavos stood back up, still delirious of what just happed.

As he grabbed on to his head to put pressure and get rid of his headache, the speakers in the storage room activated. They all looked up at it as the feedback sound of all the speakers in the bunker resonated into the room. Kavos turned to the ambassador, who was just as confused over what was happened. It soon explained itself.

" _My fellow Batarians…"_

That voice resonated into the Batarians, a mix of emotions consuming them. The ambassador was shaking, almost in fear of who was speaking. But Chairman Kavos was suddenly alerted once more, boiling over in rage as the speaker spoke.

"Turn it off!"

A nearby guard, typing furiously on his omnitool, replied. "We can't turn it off. The carrier wave is overpowering our instruments!"

" _We… We are free!_

 _The Terrans have liberated us all from the oppression of the Hegemony!_

 _Welcome our liberators with open arms, for they fought for our freedom._

 _In cooperation with our liberators,  
I, Ja'hal Derik,  
declare the formation of the new post-war government._

 _For the billion living under Hegemony oppression,  
We are no longer slaves._

 _Down with the Hegemony  
Long live the Free Batarian Confederation!_

 _And our liberators,  
the United Terran Federation!_

"Ah! That bastard Derik!"

With equal rage and power, he threw a fit and began throwing supply crates of his own size across the room, prompting the guards to move the ambassadors out of the way as he wrecked up the room. As he did so, he yelled out a frightened screech, almost like that of the monsters that attacked them on the _Leviathan_. As he did so, the others heard as the speakers spoke, a new voice.

" _This is General Williams, acting commander of the Terran 31_ _st_ _Naval Flotilla and 14_ _th_ _Marine Division._

 _To all Batarian forces in the region. The war is over. The Hegemony has been defeated._

 _Surrendered immediately, and you will not be harmed._

 _This is your only warning._

 _No quarter will be given."_

As the speakers turned off, it was quickly followed by the ground shaking above them. Their last strong hold had been found. Kavos stopped, noticing the shaking and the bits of rocking falling from the ceiling. Their time had come. He growled in frustration; he wasn't to going to give up yet.

"I… will not surrender!"

"Give up, Kavos. You lost!" said the Turian, before she laughed at him with a smug smile.

"Shut up you…"

His omnitool activated, an officer from an upper level reporting.

"Sir! We have a situation."

Kavos turned away from the tied up ambassadors, "What situation?"

"The Council troops we captured. They started to break out and fight back against us right after that broadcast."

"What the hell are you telling me for? Kill them all!"

The Salarian ambassador objected, "You so much as touch them, and the Council will leave you here to die!"

He snarled, "You already have!"

"Sir, we already put them down, but a small group managed to escape and are making their way out."

"You incompetent idiot! Channel them in and lead them out into the cavern exit point. Those stupid raiders hiding out there will handle them."

"Yes, sir."

As Kavos turned back to them, the Salarian ambassador broke free of his restraints and sprang into action, quickly dispatching two of their guards. He quickly killed them and went for the Chairman. But Kavos quickly took notice. With seeming control of the power that was corrupting him, he sidestepped the unusually skilled Salarian and grabbed him by the throat. He grinned as he stared down the struggling man with his glowing eyes. With a strength far exceeding a regular Batarian, he tightened his grip and snapped the ambassador's neck. After a moment, he returned to himself and dropped the lifeless lizard onto the ground.

He turned back to the ambassador.

"He was an STG agent, wasn't he?"

The ambassador seemed confused, unsure of what to say. Kavos groaned once more as he restored himself.

"Well, we had our suspicions…"

"The damn humans will be on us shortly. I need to return to the command room."

"B-but the ambassadors?"

He pointed at him, "You will watch them, here! If they make so much as a twitch, shoot them. They're as good as useless now."

He left the room, his guards in tow. As the Batarian ambassador took point and loaded his side arm, the Turian inched her way back to the Asari.

"We're going to die, aren't we?" asked the Asari, shaking in absolute fear.

The Turian replied, almost unfazed, "Yah, probability."

* * *

 **Part 5:**

 **Lieutenant Mitchell - Torfan Tunnels  
June 8, 2167 12:00:00 UTC**

The _Harpers Ferry_ charged through the void, followed quickly by the aircraft and escort ships from the _Richard J Gatling_ task force. Near an uninteresting gas giant was the moon of Torfan and Hegemony ships that failed to surrender hours ago. They took formation and fired on the Terrans, but the _Ferry_ 's shield brushed them off as the fighters and bombers dodged and began their run.

The _Ferry_ fired her guns; the one-ton tungsten slugs began their slow flight at the Hegemony formation. All the while, the fighter and attack corvettes left their directional plane and took position a few hundred kilometers above the Batarian formation. The remaining Batarian cruisers kept firing, but their outdated weaponry was no match for the Saint-Nazaire Battle cruiser's shields. The first of the slugs then hit, smashing though a cruiser's barrier and drilled straight through the ship, gutting it whole before it exploded. The volley destroyed more ships.

The _Ferry_ then dove down to avoid the main formation. From above, the B-5 Vultures took aim and let out their omni missiles, a hundred missiles from its top and bottom carriages launched before they overwhelmed the cruisers and destroyed them. Only a few minutes into battle, it was over, debris floated over the small moon. The _Gatling_ then jumped to warp from afar and took position next to the _Ferry_ as her aircraft returned and her Marine drop shuttle deployed. All the while, the _Ferry_ began her bombardment, opening up the landing zone for the Marines.

Under the dead surface was a series of caverns several tens of meters under the surface. As the first shuttles landed, they opened up to a squad of Marines in full gear; Mark III Hahne-Kedar power armor and armed with Lancer rifles or Raider assault shotguns. They all quickly leapt out and took point at the numerous tunnels intercepting the dead end they had landed in. As more ferrying shuttles landed, they regrouped into their platoons and began their advance into each tunnel. As the next wave of shuttles landed, their platoon leader jumped off followed quickly by his two sergeants.

Mitchell checked his armor watch, reading a breathable atmosphere in the cavern they were in. He removed his helmet and took a deep breath of the air as his sergeants gathered.

"Well Lieutenant, what's the plan?" asked Matheson.

"Fourth and Second Platoon are to take the tunnels flanking the main passage. We will be taking the main passage there," he said, pointing at the central tunnel ahead of them, dark and obscured in the light haze that filled the tunnel.

Jenkins adjusted the visor on his helmet and attempted to zoom in with the night vision. "Not much beyond the horizon. Should we light flares?"

"No. We should try to keep the element of surprise. Ready your squad and advance ahead and secure the ground."

"Yes, sir."

As Jenkins left to gather his squad at the opening, Matheson turned to Mitchell.

"You talk to Jenkins yet?"

Mitchell turned to him as he began to adjust his headband visor. "I haven't really talked to him. He was just transferred into my command a few days ago."

"He was on Elysium helping that 'Hero' of theirs. There at the start of the war. Here at the very end."

He laughed a bit as he placed his visor on and put away his helmet. "It has been a nice war, hasn't it? Let's finish this. No need to lose anyone now."

"Here, here. I'm looking forward to shore leave after this, well, the rest of it anyway."

"What a waste of a two week pass."

* * *

They ran up to the tunnel entrance, Matheson's squad waiting as they prepared to meet up with Jenkins. At Mitchell's command, they began to advance into the tunnel as he radioed in to his own commanding officer for Bravo Company. Confirming his orders to find the entrance of the bunker, he continued on.

The tunnel passageway was dark. The Marines advanced swiftly through the rock formations, assured that Jenkins' Alpha squad had cleared the way. Behind them, the light from the blown out roofing of the cavern began to fade away as they got deeper, until the tunnel was finally pitch black. Matheson ordered their flashlights on and they continued advancing unimpeded.

"These tunnels are clearly artificial, huh?" asked Mitchell. He walked along the rock side, noticing the clean cut of the tunnel, before looking up at the ceiling and its circular shape.

Matheson looked over and slowed a bit, walking with Mitchell in the back. "A clean cut. Must be machinery. I doubt slave labor would have cut this cleanly or accurately."

On the walls of the tunnel, the echo of an explosion rang out. It was quickly filled with chatter on the radio as flashes of light from down the tunnel lit up and back down. The squad took cover and aimed their rifles at the direction of the gunfire. Mitchell ducked behind a rock for cover and got on the radio, sorting through the yelling at the other hand.

It didn't take long for Jenkins to get through, quickly reporting they made contact, a hundred meters away. Mitchell patched the info to Matheson and the squad advanced to reinforce them. They disengaged their lights and began their dark approach. Relying on the blinding light of gunfire through their night vision, they ran down the tunnel and towards a fork.

At the fork, Jenkins' squad and Echo squad from Captain Kyle's platoon were holding ground at the fork. But the tunnel leading deeper in was inclining and the Batarains held the high ground. They fired down on the Terran Marines, heavy weaponry bearing on them as a machine gun post and firing zones kept them from advancing.

They finally arrived, a full platoon of troops taking cover behind abandoned sandbags or fallen pillars of rock. As they kept cover form the sand grain fire, Mitchell crawled over to Jenkins.

"Jenkins, sit rep!"

Jenkins quickly peered up and ducked back down as rounds flew at him. "Twelve up along the tunnel. Machine gun centered and two rifle kill zones on either side covering the advance up the middle."

"Two of your men. Flash bangs." Mitchell turned to Matheson, a few meters away yet too far to yell orders. He got his attention and signaled him to have two frag grenades to be tossed after the flash.

He took aim and fired his rifle, suppressing one of the rifle teams up the tunnel. As he got back down, one of Echo squad's Kinetics shifted position to cover near him. Mitchell grabbed him and pointed him to the machine gun post. "We're charging that post." He then energized his kinetics, a light blue glow over his armor. The other one nodded and did the same. As the rest of the squad laid down suppressing fire, they stood up, took aim and charged.

Mitchell waved off Jenkins and then with a quick thrust, they kinetically charged up the hill. In the split second, they phased through the air at light speed and through the make shift structure of the machine gun post. Mitchell made contact on a Batarian officer as the other charged the gunner. From their point of view, they were frozen in their last second action of trying to dodge the kinetics. They rephrased back in and tackled both of the ground, engaging in hand-to-hand combat behind the Batarian's defenses.

As the others looked back to see what was happening, Jenkins and others tossed flash bangs in front of the rifle guards, their backs to them. They looked forward only to be blinded, giving Matheson and his squad time to lob grenades into their position. Before they could reorient, they went off and blew their cover along with a few of them into pieces. Matheson ordered them ahead and they rushed to engage the collapsed line.

Behind, Mitchell continued to engage in combat, locking rifles with the officer as they struggled to overpower the other. The other Kinetic quickly dispatched his target, but was forced to attend to the ones falling back to their position. The officer took the first advantage, using his better-gripped rifle to shove Mitchell's sleeker rifle out of his hands. He quickly attempted to hit him, but Mitchell blocked it with one hand and punched him with the other.

The officer fell back and Mitchell charged at him. But the officer then reached for his omnitool and opened his omniblade. Mitchell stopped and dodged as the officer tried to stab him, quickly tip toeing between each slash. Mitchell then punched him in the face and forced him backwards. As he stumbled back, Mitchell reached for his shotgun and took aim. But the officer fought back and slashed at him. Mitchell quickly blocked with his shotgun, the blade cutting the outside coating. But he then took aim and fired, several BB sized shredded rounds came out his shotgun and spired out in a wide cone and into the officer's chest.

The officer fell to the ground and looked onas Mitchell approached him. Mitchell looked at the top of his shotgun, disgruntled at the large scratches by the blade. He aimed and fired at the officer, finishing him off.

* * *

 **Part 6:**

 **Lieutenant Mitchell - Torfan Tunnels Primary** **  
June 8, 2167 13:30:00 UTC**

"What do we have here?"

Mitchell crouched down and skimmed over the dead officer's body as his two sergeants looked on. He padded down the armor with his right hand, while he held his left hand over it to scan using his watch. After a moment, his watch went off over the Batarian's left arm. He padded it own and found the omnitool implant in the armor. He yanked it out and began scanning it.

"One of them alien watches?" asked Matheson.

He continued scanning the omnitool implant as he examined the wire connectors, "I'd like to see the look on their faces when I stab them with that bright holo blade of theirs."

"You sure you can hook that thing up? You can fry that watch just trying to connect a different company's gear, let alone alien tech," said Jenkins.

Matheson chuckled, "You never saw the Lieutenant here as a kid. A total wiz kid."

"You knew the Lieutenant?"

"Me and the LT here were part of Tenth Street Reds back on Earth. Damn, I still remember when me and Finn found him, alone in the gutters after the Fallen Angel deployment."

"My parents died during the Revival." said Mitchell as he tried connecting some of the wirings to the watch's adaptive I/O port. "Tom and the gang were the only family I had."

"He was always the smart one, Jenkins," said Matheson, "Always reading and stuff. Finn never liked it, but it helped us nail our biggest score."

"I may not be a fancy engineer, like that hero of yours. But with some street smarts…" He hooked the omnitool to his watch, crossing the wiring to the right ports as the watch began its adaptive interface, writing up a new interface program with its quantum processor. Mitchell stood back up and opened up the omntiool's menu. "You can do a lot to survive."

Jenkins looked back to check the squads, all of them formed up ahead. "So how did you end up in the Marines?"

"Our biggest score was for not. I messed up and well…"

"We were going to be caught, just a matter of time," said Matheson as they began to walk back. He continued explaining, "But there was a way to escape it! I reached eighteen first and joined the Marines first thing. Normally, you have to join the Navy as punishment, but if you are already in the service when convicted of a crime beforehand, you can continue service instead. A few years later, Mitchell did the same. Hell, they let him stay in the Academy!"

"They wouldn't turn down a kinetic like me," Mitchell groaned as he kept flicking his arm to activate his new omniblade, to no success. "But it almost went to hell. That damn bastard…"

Jenkins looked at him, a bit confused, "Everyone got along with Roosa back on the _Kitty Hawk_."

"You never seen him in the academy. A testament to Navy incompetence."

"No offense sir, but given your past record and the incident of '65, I'm wondering why they let you stay in either case."

With one more flick, Mitchell nailed the motion and activated the omniblade. Using the watch as a master control, the omnitool attached pumped out molten silicon while projecting the invisible barrier to contain it. Across his forearm and around his fist, the molten silicon blade flash forged into place, before the barrier gave out a red glow to showcase the physical parameter of the blade. They turned to look at it as Mitchell made some cutting motions in the air.

"It's the Marines, sergeant. Being an officer is a dead end career. If I don't die by the Navy's leadership, I'll just end up in the Navy altogether."

As they regrouped with the squad, he received a comm signal. Mitchell ordered the platoon out and opened his comm.

"Lieutenant Mitchell, First Platoon, Bravo Company."

"This is General Williams."

Williams was on the _Ferry_ , scrolling through holoscreens on the bridge's command table. He spoke as he turned to the moon outside the bridge's massive viewport.

"General, sir! Is there anything you need?"

On the bridge of the ship, he opened up his communication data while reading a profile of Mitchell. As he continued reading, he opened back the comm.

"What's your sit rep? I lost radio contact with the others platoons in your company."

"We made contact and have broken through the first line of defense. Captain Kyle's Echo has joined us. No word on him though."

"Roger that. We'll continue monitoring from here. Also, we did an updated sonar scan of the tunnels. Only your platoon is near the bunker. Continue ahead and complete the mission…"

"Sir?"

The line began to break up, more static bleeding into the signal. Then it began to merge with the comm lines with other squads scattered across the tunnel systems. It finally broke off from Williams and into Kyle's.

"Is anyone there? Second Platoon is pinned down! They're swarming from everywhere!"

Mitchell quickly readjusted his radio, "Captain, this is Mitchell. Your Echo squad is with us, do you need reinforcements?"

"We're in sector D-2, they're coming in from the air ve…"

Static filled the air, but the signal merged back to Williams' frequency. He could hear explosions from that end, which were quickly explained as he overheard the general.

"What the hell was that?" yelled Williams to a LADAR officer.

"A few ships of unknown design have begun an attack run. We are maintaining active LADAR on them, but no register on regular sensors.

"It's the stealth ships! Divert assault corvettes, I want those ships!" He turned back to the table, noticing the comm signal was open. "Belay that order from Kyle, Mitchell. Take out the Chairman now! The Hegemony is launching a counterattack. Kyle will be reinforced. Now go! Williams out."

The comm cut, Mitchell disgruntled at the order of leaving them hanging. He rejoined with his squad and directed them to continue into the tunnel. Past the first line of defense, the tunnel was lit, small lanterns lining the walls. On occasion the entire tunnel shook, followed by bits of rock and dust falling down. Above, bombers continued scorching the surface of the moon near the bunker facility.

As they continued deeper, the tunnel began descending back down deeper into the moon. The lighting became sporadic as numerous dark spots filled the approaching tunnel section. Along the wall, the rock formations began to become more rough and uneven, with numerous large holes that led upward.

They ignored it and continued ahead, where they arrived at a point where the rock turned to concrete. Just further ahead, they arrived at the entrance of the bunker. The main hatch was a large metal vault door. Flanked on either side were abandoned machine gun posters with pillboxes oriented to aim at each other's side, creating a perfect kill zone ahead of the entrance, which lacked any cover.

Mitchell looked around and analyzed their surroundings.

"Matheson, is this the bunker?"

He walked up to him, "I guess so. It most certainly looks like one. This position looks heavily fortified."

"But no one is here…" He kept looking around, then up as he examined the entrance.

"A trap maybe."

"Now that you said it, yah. Your squad, take position on the left and man that gun. Jenkins, your squad takes right. Echo squad, you're up. Check the door."

Echo team reached the vault door, two large slabs of concrete blocked with an additional metal door that rolled into place in front of it. Mitchell stood watch as they checked for any cyber hook up to force the door open. When that wasn't the case, they began to lay demolition charges.

"Lieutenant!"

Mitchell turned back to Jenkins, "Yes, Sergeant… what the hell?"

In his arms was a body of a dead guard from inside the machine gun post. As he dropped him, Matheson waved over to him where his own men were moving dead bodies out of the defense post.

"Shit, Reggie. Someone beat us here…"

"I don't like the feeling of this."

As they investigated, the doors then began to open up and Echo quickly fell back to take aim. As the door rolled to the side and the others opened up, only pitch-blackness was there. But that quickly broke as several small round cylinders came flying out in an arch projector and right at them.

"Grenade! Get down!"

As each one landed all across their position and exploded, one landed right in front of Mitchell. He quickly raised a kinetic barrier and tried to charge backwards. But the grenade exploded and pushed him back. He landed a few meters away on the ground dazed and concussed. All the while, elite Hegemony shock troopers came out of the doors, guns a blazing.

* * *

 **Part 7:**

 **Corporal Themius - Torfan Tunnels Secondary  
June 8, 2167 13:30:00 UTC**

"Themius, down here!"

The young Turian Marine took aim and fired, pinning the refuge raiders as the rest of the escaped Council troops fell back down the tunnel. For the past few hours they had been running and wondering around the unending tunnels under the surface of Torfan. Every turn they made, they ran into Hegemony hired raiders that pursued them ruthlessly.

As the last made it to cover, her Salarian officer came to her.

"Corporal, we can't hold position here."

"We have to meet up with Council forces. It's clear the Batarians are under attack."

"Council? We're deep in Hegemony space. These tunnels could easily be crawling with those Terrans!"

She took aim and fired, blasting the helmet of a Batarian clean off, his head along with it. She then bashed her rifle to open the cool down vent.

"Better them than these bastards."

The officer looked around their surroundings. He looked behind them where they came from, hearing gunfire from that direction. He peeked over cover to look at the Batarians coming at them, over twenty strong as they aimed up at them and fired, filling the air above them with sand grain rounds. He then looked to the sides, seeing the rest of them, six in total.

As he looked to the wall next to them, he noticed several large cavern holes dotting the walls, like long shoots going downward. He crawled over and looked down, examining it.

"Corporal, I think we found our escape route."

She ducked back down and looked to the shoot vents.

"There?"

The Salarian smiled and began his hyped up explanation. "We'll jump into these tunnels and escape from the Batarians."

She took aim again and fired before ducking back down to address him. "That would work, if it wasn't for the fact that under our feet is the bunker we just escaped from. Those shoots could take us right where we started. We must go up!"

A grenade landed right to her. She quickly side kicked it back over, where it exploded in midair. The officer signaled for the others to come over.

"We don't have a choice. We're flanked on both sides and need to get away from here, now!" An Asari projected a biotic barrier and covered the others as they ran over to them. They then laid down suppressing fire as she broke off and jumped to cover with them. "No more time. Take point, Themius."

She looked around a bit, but relented and approached the vent. With gunfire getting louder on each side, she holstered her rifle and went feet first into the shoot. Another Turian and the Asari went in from the other shoots as the officer directed another Salarian to follow after them.

As the next one prepared to go, another grenade landed a few meters away from them. They ducked as it went off, dodging the shrapnel but getting thrown back by the concussion wave. They hit the wall and fell back down dazed as the Batarians advanced on their position. They quickly surrounded them, the Salarian officer and another Turian Marine. The Salarian looked up as they took aim, ready to fire.

But in a moment, the raiders were rifted with gunfire from up ahead in the tunnel, killing them all as they fell to the ground in front of them. He slowly looked over to his right, were Captain Kyle and his platoon were advancing down the tunnel, his rear guard holding off the Batarians. He and his men quickly surrounded them, examining who they were.

* * *

Mitchell looked up, a haze of dust in the air. His hearing then restored, the sound of a gunfight underway as his platoon attempted to turn back and stop the advancing guards. One of Echo got to him and tried to drag him to cover, but was quickly gunned down by a shock trooper. He took aim with his rifle, but Mitchell deployed his new omnitool and slashed at his rifle, cutting it in half. Mitchell then swipe kicked him to the ground and they locked arms in hand-to-hand combat.

With one arm grabbing on to each other, Mitchell tried to stab him with his left, but the Batarian grabbed on to his forearm and held his blade back. They rolled around the ground as the rest formed up and matched the Terrans in firepower. As he tried to get closer, Mitchell heard an unrecognizable shot ring out through the cavern and over the others, but paid no attention to it as he broke his right arm free and punched the Batarian in the face.

He fell back and broke off from Mitchell. Mitchell quickly pursued and attempted to stab him, but deployed his own blade and they clashed. With each thrust and swipe, their orange blades crossed and hot molten silicon splashed off. As they battled, the ground slowly littering with bodies from both sides. After a short minute, Mitchell backed up and took out his pistol, but the Batarian changed his blade into a shield and charged at Mitchell as he fired.

They fell to the ground and the Batarian began to bash Mitchell with his shield. Bloodying up, he blocked the shield and punched him in the face, but the Batarians responded in kind and hit him, nearly knocking him out. Mitchell looked up, the Batarian switching to his blade and ready to stab him. As soon as the blade deployed, a round traveling what seemed like light speed shot through his head and out, before the sound of the distinctive gunfire came through.

The Batarian fell on top of him and Mitchell pushed him aside as he tried to get up. Matheson and Jenkins ran up to him as the remains of the platoon surrounded them and took aim at a group coming from their rear. After Mitchell got up, he pushed through his men and approached the group.

He reached him arm back for someone to give him his shotgun. He then yelled over to the group.

"Identify yourself!"

The group finally came into the remaining light in the tunnel, revealing themselves. They raised their weapons up as they approached and Mitchell waved for his men to lower theirs. He took a quick look at the four of them, two were reptilian like, with rough plating for skin, one with spikes across his head. The other was clearly more feminine, blue skinned with a crest pointing back that almost looked like a hairstyle in the dark. The last one was skinny, his helmet preventing anything else distinctive about him to be identified.

The one reptilian without the curving head spikes took a step forward and called out. Her talons up, holding the handle of her rifle in one of them.

"We are with the Council! Don't shoot!"

Matheson walked up to Mitchell. "Hey, those look like the aliens we rescued on Grazun and Camala."

"But they don't look like slaves. They're soldiers." He turned to them and walked up, Matheson and Jenkins close behind. "Identify. Who are you and why are you here?"

She looked back and checked the others. The others didn't make it, she was now the highest ranking one among them. "Corporal Julia Themius. Hierarchy Marine, Council Detachment. We were captured by the Hegemony when they were fleeing from your forces on Khar'shan."

"Captured? Aren't you supposed to be allied with them?" asked Matheson.

She groaned, "I wouldn't use the term 'allied'. Admiral Fedorian was to assess the threat your invasion force was and aid if possible. He was to also recover Council diplomats. It was clear he was over his head on that."

The other Turian spoke out, a bit angered by her last words, "The last day was utter hell. We were all serving on the _Larisa_ when we were ambushed by your fleet. Our pod was recovered by their remaining ships. They should have fled to Council space, not here. It was clear then that we were not their guests."

Mitchell looked at them in confusion, "You're… Turian, right? Why the hell would your Council try to aid the Batarians. Do you have any idea of how many of your own people they enslaved?"

Julia tried to answer that, surprising herself with her lack of words. "Well… Who are you again?"

"Lieutenant Reginald Mitchell, Terran Marine."

"Lieutenant Mitchell. My race just came out of a war with them decades ago. We have been politically and economically isolating them since."

"Sanctions? When this is all over, the Council should be thanking us for dealing with the four eyes."

The Asari spoke out, "Thank you? Your people destroyed the _Destiny Ascension_!"

Mitchell waved her off as his radio received a signal. "Ships can be rebuilt. We built seventy-five thousand in just thirty years. We'll rebuild our losses by next week."

"What?"

"This is Lieutenant Mitchell, come in, over."

Williams came in over the comm. From his position, he could watch as the corvettes chased the Batarian stealth ships, trying to get close enough to latch on and disable them, "This is Williams. I want a sit rep."

He walked away from them, pushing Matheson and Jenkins to deal with them. "We just gained entrance into the bunker."

"Copy. The rest of your company is not coming through. What's your casualty count?"

Mitchell turned to Matheson. "How bad was that ambush?"

He walked over and removed several chains from his armor compartment. "Seven, including Echo's sergeant."

Mitchell grabbed the dog tags and took a look at each one. Across the entire company, he had taken the time to get to know each one. It wasn't the first time he had lost what he viewed as an unacceptable count, but he knew the war was basically over. Their loss seemed pointless. He looked around the rest of the platoon and then reported as he put the tags away.

"We lost seven, down to seventeen. Sir, we have another problem. We encountered Council troops. They were captured by the Hegemony during the battle with their fleet near Khar'shan."

"If they're not a threat, let them be. Continue on the mission…"

He kept adjusting the radio, but only static came through. From Mitchell's side, he overheard more side chatter.

"The damn moon must be made of lead… Why the hell haven't the AIs disabled their ships?"

"We're trying to maintain LADAR lock to allow communications with their systems. No luck yet."

"The one moment they're actually competent... Mitchell, if you're still receiving, continue on. You have discretion. Williams out."

He then turned it off and looked at the four Council troops. Then he looked back at the open vault door into the bunker. After a quick moment to decide his actions, he made up his mind and walked back to the front. He loaded a new battery into his shotgun as he addressed the highest ranking one.

"Themius, right? Our mission is to take out the Chairman. I think we have a mutual interest to help each other. We need aid to take the bunker."

"We are not going back in!" The Salarian walked up to her and removed his helmet. "And we can't help them either, it would be treason! And neither of us has the firepower to take the bunker."

"We're the finest Marines in the Federation, short of the N7s. We will take this bunker. You can rescue your diplomats as well."

"They have Special Intervention Units! We need Spectres to take them on!" yelled the male Turian.

Mitchell leveled his shotgun and took aim at them, prompting the rest of his men to raise their weapons in surprise with him. "You have two choices. You're with us, or you're against us. We can't afford to have our rear being flanked."

"You would shoot us as a precaution?" asked Themius, shocked as she discreetly prepared herself, opening the cooling vent on her rifle.

Mitchell turned his eyes, seeing Themius slowly prep her rifle in her talon as she lowered it, "I could shoot you. Or we could each put a bullet in each eye of the Chairman, the bastard that's responsible for you being here. Your call."

They stared off, the other three nervous as to what she would say as the Marines paced their breathing and awaited their orders. Themius tried to stare the human down, but Mitchell kept his composure as he locked eyes with her, his shotgun aimed right at her.

"You Terrans can keep the eyes." She lifted her barrel and tapped her forehead,a "I go for the spot in between."

Mitchell stared on for a moment longer, then smiled, "Then we are at an agreement."

She then asked, "A lieutenant, right?"

"That's right."

Themius holstered her rifle, quickly drawing the attention of the others, though Mitchell kept still and observed. She closed the vent and prepped it as she stared back at him and smiled.

She sighed, "You're... our commanding officer now. Lead on."

* * *

 _Terran Wikipedia_

 _(By the Authority of the Federal Communications Committee, this document has been created and monitored in accordance to the 'Orwellian Freedom Act' to ensure non-biased and informative information for the Terran People.)_

 _ **Ja'hal Derik**_

 _ **1**_ _ **st**_ _ **President of the Free Batarian Confederation**_

 _Assumed Office: June 8, 2167_

 _ **Military Service**_

 _ **Service** : Hegemony Navy, Dishonorably Discharged;_

 _ **Years of Service** : Grand Hegemony Navy (2852-2873 GS; 2107-2133 UTC);_

 _ **Rank** : Commodore_

 _ **Battles/Wars** :_

Frankian Altercation:

 _First Assault on Franka_

 _Third Assault on Franka_

Turian-Batarian War:

 _Breakthrough at Alptine_

 _First Battle of Taetrus_

 _Battle of Philippi_

 _Second Battle of Taetrus_

 _ **Awards** :_

 _Stalkim's Cross (Rescinded)_

 _Heroic Stand of Courage (Rescinded)_

 _Hegemony Medal of Valor (Rescinded)_

 _Hegemony Chairman's Recognition Award (Rescinded)_

 _ **Personal Details**_

 _ **Born** : Ja'hal Tozen Derik Bucos; 2832 GS, 2085 UTC (Age: 75 GS; 81 UTC)_

 _ **Nationality** : Batarian Hegemony (Former), Free Batarian Confederation (Current), United Terran Federation (Current)_

 _Ja'hal Derik is the 1_ _st_ _and currently acting president of the Free Batarian Confederation. A former high-ranking official and political prisoner to the Hegemony, he was viewed upon by liberal minded people in both the Council and the Hegemony as a progressive and reformist, but grew wary as political dissident within the Hegemony government grew. A once high-ranking politician, the last Hegemony regime viewed him as a traitor, but was too influential to outright kill. He was court martialed under false charges and sent to prison._

 _Born to a high-ranking diplomatic family, he conducted most of his study in the finest schools on Thessia and was considered one of the finest intellectual minds for his age. His early fame came from his successful debate against Matriarch Irissa on the structure of the Confederation of the Asari Republics. Returning to the Hegemony, he assumed a position as governor over his home colony. His family ties quickly earned in a position in the Hegemony government. However, Derik was open minded and preached reformation, which was considered dangerous to the old order._

 _During the Frankian Altercation, he was forced into service, but his family influence gave him an appointment as a captain. After a minor support role in the failed assault of the home world of Frankian, he was given command of the 3_ _rd_ _Hegemony Fleet. Here, he orchestrated the break through the Frankian Fleet, before intervention by Salarian forces arrived to end the fight._

 _At the beginning of the Turian-Batarian war, he became the second in command to then Admiral Ut'lok Kavos and led the surprise assault through Turian space. In command of the fleet, he led major breakthroughs that pushed the fleet deep to the Turian coreworld of Taetrus. Under Kavos' command, he participated in the famous battle of Philippi. He, however, was relieved of command by the last Chairman, resulting in a loss of leadership in the second battle of Taetrus and Quentius' Counter-Offensive Campaign._

 _After the war, he continued with his reformation agenda in the People's Lower Congress, but could no longer be protected after he received blame for the loss of the war. In spite of serving as an advisor for Chairman Kavos, he was arrested and thrown in prison._

 _During that time, he was still able to help lead the Batarian resistance. His once high profile statue and ideas was well known amongst the general Batarian and slave populations. He helped organize resistance forces to aid Terran forces in the Skyllian Blitz, his major contribution being the orchestration of the inaction of his former fleet in the battle of Rigeno. He was liberated during the Fall of Khar'shan and was chosen to lead the new provisional government. He presided over the Batarian race's entrance into the Federation and is currently serving his position until confederate territories can be properly brought into the Federation._

 _(This article of a Person is a Stub. You can help Wikipedia by expanding it.)_

 _Last Edited 1 July 2167 00:00 UTC_

* * *

 _ **BBC War Correspondent;**_ _Special Report; June 25, 2167_

 _ **Weapons of the Future!**_

"There's only two things a colonist every needs to survive and thrive in a harsh galaxy. A John Deer tractor and a Kalashnikov rifle."

– A colonist for the Russo-American Star Alliance.

 _Every day, the latest technology comes into play in strengthening the military. Until the late 2150s, chemical based weapons were the main form of weaponry for the Terran Military. Using self-contained cartridge ammunition, it is still standard for all civilian grade weaponry and is mass-produced on colony worlds. Current military grade weaponry is now magnetic propulsion based, using a compact magnetic rail gun that is now the corner stone of Terran weaponry._

 _Before magnetic weaponry, the official standard weaponry of the Terran military was the KC-10 assault rifle, the M-11 pistol and the M-96 Carbine. Since the formation of the United Earth, all rifles are chambered in the 5.75x42mm RASA, and pistols and submachine guns use the 9x19 mm EURO parabellum. The current common civilian weaponry, the AR-25, is also chambered in the Alliance 5.75x42mm round._

 _The move to standardize magnetic rail guns came during the early fifties, as part of the modernization of the Terran Army. This call came after heavy casualties during the Revival, fighting rebel and uprising forces with similar weapons to their own. The Army chose the new Hahne-Kedar M-7 Lancer over a re-chambered version of the Colt-Kalashnikov M-96R Mattock. This adoption quickly spread to the Marines and the Navy. Both the M-3 Predator and the M-5 Phalanx pistol were chosen for adoption._

 _The weapon's initial advertised advantage to older style weapons was its reduced need to reload in combat. When used, a metallic block of a tungsten-lead mix and a micro fusion battery are load into the weapons. They acted as the two 'ammunitions' for the weapon. When firing, the battery is used to heat the block to a molten state. Energy fields would carve a measured amount of metal and reform it into a ball the size of a marble at 13mm. The battery is then used to charge a rail gun, which would propel the marble sized round. The heat is then channeled from the rail to the block, allowing a heat cycle to keep the block molten and removed energy drawn from the battery._

 _While initial reports have shown an increase in effectiveness in soldiering, logistic management has been a key factor in supporting this new weaponry. Micro fusion batteries that are used primarily as long-term power supplies are drained quickly with weapon usage and are expensive. The military logistics core is also responsible for supplying and managing the delivery of both new military munitions and civilian colonial munitions, which still uses the older form of weaponry._

* * *

 _ **BBC War Correspondent;**_ _Special Report; June 25, 2167_

 _ **The Terran Kinetic Storm!**_

"Oh my God… I'm a Jedi!"

– The most common reported reaction by most kinetic enabled children upon learning of their abilities, as reported by the Terran Kinetic Foundation.

 _A mass kinetic, or Kinetic, is a person born with the biological ability to control and manipulate quantum mass effect fields. The creation of such personnel has been recorded to be caused from an exposure of massatanium to a human embryo during pre-natal infancy. This usually stems from exposure of the mother to dust and crystalized forms of massatanium. Most common exposures come from mining or ship construction. During the early years when such personnel started to appear, most forms of exposure had been link to cause fatal forms of cancer. While kinetic abilities were also tied to this, research was done to reduce development of abnormalities with the side benefit of allowing promoting nerve adaptation to massatanium. After a massive exposure at the end of the Great Revival on Earth, a spike in Kinetics is believed to have occurred in the following years._

 _Kinetics are able to perform their abilities due to the embedment of massatanium into the central nervous system. Though such infusion of compounds is considered non-natural, the proper adaptation of such nervous systems in those who are Kinetic suggest that the nervous system is almost design to adapt and infuse with it. Kinetics can learn to control mass effect fields generated by the compound through mental and physical discipline. Basic abilities include light duty telekinesis and kinetic barriers. More powerful, military based techniques require an amplification of the mass effect fields in the nervous systems. In 2142, the first generation of kinetic amps was created. In combat, they are emplaced in a surgically placed port at the base of the back neck and can be swapped out as needed. It is against standard procedure to have one installed when off duty._

 _Since First Contact, information has shown that many other races in the galaxy have their own variant. The galactic term for people with these abilities is 'Biotic'. Though the Federation has been promoting the birth of more Kinetics, with strict anti-discrimination laws, most races still tend to be wary of such people. The main exception is the Asari, who are all 'biotics', due to their home world being rich in massatanium. With access to galactic knowledge of these people, dating millennia in age, the Federation has been fast accelerating research of Kinetics to match alien counterparts._

 _As currently allowed by the Evolutionary Progression Act, all Kinetics are to be conscripted at the age of adulthood, where the government has placed much of its resources in rising Kinetic populations. This usually comes at the end of high school, with a five-year delay, full scholarship, and enrollment into the Terran Cadet Program if a Kinetic is college bound._

* * *

 _ **NBC War Correspondent;**_ _Special Report; June 30, 2167_

 _ **Inter-service Rivalry: Part Two**_

"The Army hates the Navy; the Navy hates the Army; both hate the Marines; the Marines hate both of them; all of them hate the National Guard; the National Guard hates all of them. All of them hate Congress. Congress simply reallocates their budget so they hate each other again."

– Congresswoman Debra Weatherman's description of her family.

 _In the days before Unification, many military families held up to the time honored tradition of joining the same military branch in their respective country as their parents. After Unification, the borders of division became very emphasized on the branches, so the reverse began to occur, until the opposite is often now the norm for many families. Many families with deep military roots can be found to have numerous generations serving in the different branch of the United Terran Military._

 _The most prominent example of this is of the family of Admiral Andrew Roland and Congresswoman Debra Weatherman. Though Weatherman never served, she is a decedent of a long time American Army family. Her father is an early retiree Army Field Marshall from the Revival, while her mother spent a long career in the Army before serving an honorary position as the commanding officer of the Terra Nova National Guard. Her younger brother and sister are currently colonels in the Terran Marines._

 _Her husband, Admiral Roland, is in the Navy and descends from a Royal Marine family, who traces its linage to the first Royal Marines in the seventeenth century. His disqualification for joining the Marines nearly got him disowned by his family. Their children are both in the Marines themselves, and joined for the purpose of spiting their father. They continued the family tradition, gaining fame in the service during the Death World Campaign. Though Weatherman never served herself, having once ironically been an anti-war, anti-Federation protestor during the Unification years, her skills serving in the political arena have made many believe she controls her family using those skills, bringing justification to her quote above._

 _Though this rivalry is ingrained in Terran society, the military itself, however, operates in direct opposition to it. There is no such thing as an "Army" or "Naval" operation. In accordance to doctrine, all military operations are Joint Operations, requiring the active participation of troops and officers of every branch of the military. Even in solely star bound or planetary operations, a represented flag officer of all branches must be present. This is in the form of a Naval ship, or a platoon of troops. Near randomly timed war exercises draw all parts of the military into participation. The military officer corps are also trained together. Until recently, the Navy (and its Marine Corp) and Army trained its officers at the same academic institution. Even separated now, it is not unusual to see classes and drills with officers of all branches, with cross training being a requirement to become an officer._

 _In spite of this heavy rivalry, joint training has proven to pay off. In the Skyllian Blitz, the after-report indicated a high efficiency in the planet hopping campaign to Khar'shan, the Navy working in sync to support Marine landings and Army occupation. Casualties from all branches were remarkable low, especially for an invasion that involved securing the equivalent of 20% of the entire Federation in one week. Still, now that the war is over, each branch is back at each other's throat, as tradition and as required._


	14. 13: The Butcher stood, on dust and blood

**Chapter Thirteen: Eclipsed by darkness, the Butcher stood. On top of dust and blood.**

* * *

 **Part 1:**

 **General Williams - FSS _Harpers Ferry_  
June 8, 2167 14:00:00 UTC**

"Do we have the ships?"

An accompanying commodore on the bridge of the _Ferry_ turned to Williams.

"Almost, General. Fighters are close to disabling their engines."

Outside the _Ferry_ , a few stealth frigates continued to zoom around the larger cruisers of the Terran squadron. One of them continued their attack run on the large top hull of the Terran battlecruiser, flying within twenty-five meters of the hull to confuse their point defense systems. The bridge crew looked out as the small frigate, more in line with a Salarian design with clear Batarian changes, fired its guns. The ship had retracted its shielding along the hull though, making the already weak weapons ineffective.

As the ship pulled away, an officer singled to Williams. They got a tight beam signal on one of the ships. Williams gave the order to disable the ship, using the one they had to bounce off of and take out the other ships. The first one began to slow, its perusing fighters passing by as the hack signal was routed to the next Batarian ship. As the fighters moved away to take perimeter, a few escort corvettes began to move in to begin boarding. Each of the ships began to drift in the middle of the squadron as the corvettes approached their hull.

As the first corvette began latching to the ship, a sudden signal feedback occurred. On the _Ferry_ , the ship's computers began to malfunction, the AIs and ITs trying to get the computer online again. Williams looked down on his console as his holo screens flickered.

The Commodore turned to the bridge engineer officer as it continued, looking for answers. Williams opened his watch, examining it with his own special software.

"This… this is not Batarian…"

At the end of the command table, a holo avatar of one of the ship's command AIs appeared. Standing prompt, he turned his head to Williams. "Sir, we have devised a counterprogram."

"Well? Counter surge these bastards!"

"Roger, commencing signal feedback."

The Terrans regained control of the ship, blocking out the alien cyberwarfare suite. Williams got hold of his screens and interfaced to do a quick analysis of it. The coding, the algorithms, the structure. It was far different from anything the Batarians, the Council, or the Terrans had. As the counter feed finished, he downloaded the information into his watch and deleted the data on the computer.

"How were they able to implement this…"

A bright flash came through the main viewport of the ship. They all looked out as the stealth frigates adrift beyond the bow of the ship began to explode. They all glowed a burning red along the hull, the heat syncs of the ship collapsing and imploding onto itself. The ships then outright exploded as its static syncs let loose, static electricity unleashing and chaining out through the pieces of debris until it was absorbed by the lightning rods at the bow of the _Ferry_.

"General, the feedback has done more damage than expected. They lost containment of their heat syncs," reported the Commodore.

Williams stared at his watch for a moment, more focused on the data than the ships. He then turned to him.

"The loss of those ships is an unfortunate loss of opportunity… Damage report?"

"Nothing significant. Escort corvettes have minor damage, returning to _Gatling_."

Willaims shook his head to refocus himself. He thought to himself, he got a whiff of what he was looking for.

"All stations back to original mission… Taking Torfan is the real goal."

* * *

 **Lieutenant Mitchell - Torfan Bunker Upper Level**

" _As I speak, our forces are rallying to drive the enemy from our worlds. The People's Navy is preparing to lead a full counteroffensive to drive these savage aliens out of our space. Our Grand Army on the home world is driving the invaders back into their ships. Our enemy, these 'Terrans', have overstretched themselves and are weakened from trying to invade our impenetrable nation._

 _I even bring better news. The Council has agreed to bring us, albeit unnecessary, aid in the form of supply and ships. Realizing the need of us, they have finally come to their senses in aiding us…"_

"Can someone shut that idiot up?" asked Julia as they advanced through the bunker.

"I got you," Matheson activated his watch and took aim at a speaker near the corner of the ceiling. He activated its electric overload and fired an electric bolt at it. The speaker overloaded and exploded as the current pulsed through the network and disabled the rest.

"Oh this is exciting," said one of the Marines, "Like when the Russians found Hitler's bunker."

"That ass at least had the decency to off himself beforehand. Now we have to do it ourselves," said Mitchell. He took cover around a corner and checked his corner, then he signaled for them to advance.

They scurried down a hallway, going door to door. At the first one on each side, they kicked it open and charged in. The Batarians inside were taken by surprise and quickly dispatched with little effort. As they cleared the first rooms, the next team took position at the next door as the first team entered through the connecting rooms. They advanced through the rooms on either side, making their way down the hall. Afterwards, they regrouped at the end and made their way to the main tunnel, a small roadway within the bunker.

"You, uh, Terrans sure can fight," said the Salarian with a bit of nervousness in his voice.

"Thanks. The Marines are the best the Federation has to offer." As they passed through an intercepting hallway, a Batarian charged at him and pinned him against the wall. Before the others could raise their weapons, Mitchell broke free and knocked him to the ground. He then activated his omniblade and stabbed him, impaling him to the ground. "This is a damn good knife!" he said, trying to yank it out before he simply disengaged the blade, the molten silicon falling through the Batarian and into the cut in the concrete.

"An omniblade? We rarely use those in modern combat," said Julia, puzzled at the human using one of the most obscured feature of the tool, "You're more liable to cutting yourself than an opponent."

"I got this off a dead Batarian officer who was more than able to find some use for it. It is a bit cumbersome than a straight edge, but it's a hell of a lot more fun."

She continued analyzing the Terran, trying to figure him and his race out. She thought of a question as they continued through the upper level hallway of the bunker. "So you said you're a Marine? Any proof to your claim as the best your race has to offer?"

Mitchell turned to her, realizing he was being called out. He wasn't going to get outdone by a rival Marine, let alone an alien.

"Look, Corporal, unlike our Navy or Army, the Marines only recruit the finest Humanity has to offer. We train across the Terran galaxy, from the coldest blizzards on Noveria to the blazing deserts of Intai'sei."

"Well," replied Julia, seeing what Mitchell was doing, "The Turians, by our own right, are the elite soldiers of the galaxy. Our race has spent centuries defending the galaxy. Our Navy reigns supreme in the stars, our Army have can hold worlds to the last man, and where ever the Turian Marines goes, so does the control of the Hierarchy and the Citadel Council."

Mitchell gave her a simple nodded, thinking of another comeback that would add up the anti. Jenkins responded first.

"Your race may been across the galaxy. And for a longer time. But have you yourself ever fought in extended tours on inhospitable worlds, fighting deadly wildlife or nature itself."

"Me? If I was a Havoc Marine, maybe." Julia though for a moment, "I once was part of a battalion sent to take out a Thresher Maw on a colony in the Terminus."

Mitchell looked back, "Thresher Maw?"

Matheson responded, "I checked the Batarain Codex. It's what they called those giant sand worms in the frontier region."

"I hate those things," said Jenkins, "The moment we find one, we just get the hell out and tell the Navy to bomb the planet. It's one thing they're good for."

"Have you ever spent time on a training course in Australia? A worm is the last thing on my mind. Came that close to qualifying for N7 training," replied Mitchell.

"What's this Australia though?"

"Based on the codex, the closest thing is this planet you call Tuchanka."

The male Turian looked at them, "You have a planet that's a nuclear hellhole?"

"We have a continent on our otherwise garden home world that's even deadlier!" said Mitchell, "Everything in that place is trying to kill you. How it's home to half a billion Australians is beyond me."

The Turian scoffed at them, "You don't know Tuchanka. It's the home world to the Thresher Maw and to the hardiest race in the galaxy, the Krogan. We had to neuter them with the most advanced genetically engineered weapon in galactic history to stop them from conquering the galaxy! And they can barely survive on their own world."

"Please. You don't fuck with an Aussie. When we want to colonize a world that's more than dead, we dump them on it and they build a civilization. We even tried introducing those 'maws' onto the continent. The local wildlife killed them."

"You don't believe them, do you Corporal?" asked the Turian.

She replied as she checked each approaching side corridors, "The fact they exist is unbelievable. They could be lying or telling the whole truth."

He murmured to himself, "The fact we're helping them is unbelievable…"

* * *

They continued on and reached a small road tunnel that led to the surface. Jenkins and his squad broke off to take the service tunnel parallel to them as they advanced straight down deeper into the bunker. It didn't take long to meet the next line of Batarian defenses, who were setting up several machine gun posts and reading an APC into action. The Terrans and Council troops took cover behind discarded crates and vehicles, and began to maneuver ahead, but they were quickly pinned down. The APC began to move its turret and took aim at the main force bearing on it.

The turret fired, a quick half-kilo round burning through the air at a quarter percent the speed of light. Before they could hear the sound of the round, it smashed through a supply crate, killing two Marines instantly as the concussive burst through them and threw them back. Mitchell quickly got on the radio and yelled out for Jenkins to hurry with their flanking. Meanwhile, the Terrans' Kinetics raised a kinetic barrier up as the Asari joined the help, Julia falling back to take shots from her rifle at distance as the other Turian and Salarain took cover with the rest of them.

As the others scrambled behind sturdier cover or into the adjacent tunnels, Jenkins and his squad quickly ran down the tunnel, gunning down the Batarians coming in from other parts of the tunnel. After they passed the APC, they reentered the main tunnel and got behind the APC. His demo man quickly threw him a charge and he placed it at what he could deduce was an exhaust port. They moved across the road tunnel and began flanking the Batarians from behind, taking out one of the machine gun posts.

The main group opened fire on the APC, trying to keep it distracted as Jenkins came up from its rear. But they surrounded Batarians quickly alerted the APC to the Terran Marines right next to it. As it moved its turret, Jenkins ordered them back into the other parallel service tunnel. The APC took aim, but the explosives then went off and destroyed the APC. The main group then advanced forward and took out the last of the Batarian defenders.

Mitchell looked around the ruins, noticing a dead end at the far end of the road tunnel, descending deeper into the moon. He turned to Matheson for a situation report. He handed him two more dog tags and after a quick moment to give it look, he put them away and continued on deeper into the bunker. After reaching the end of the roadway, they continued down the service tunnels.

* * *

"Do we have radio contact?" asked Mitchell.

"Too deep. They were trying to bombard the bunker earlier. We must be deep since taking the elevator down," said Matheson as he activated his watch.

"Find a console. We'll spend the entire operation just wandering around if we don't get a map of this place."

They slowed down and began a room-to-room search of the lower bunker, looking for an access point. Unlike the utility service area above, they were now deeper into the more well decorated and spaced area, where high-level officials were housed. They began to search through a series of rooms and quarters, the others taking point down the corridor. As the Terran Marines searched, the other three Council troops approached Julia, who took point at the end of the tunnel.

"What are we doing here?" asked the male Turian, "It took us hours to get the hell out of here."

"We agreed to help them. After what the Batarians did, I'm sure the Council would understand if we aided them."

"We are only aiding them because they threatened to shoot us if we didn't," said the Salarian, "We're being forced to fight their war!"

"The hell you are!"

They all turned around to Mitchell, his arms crossed as he looked at them. Julia tried to answer, but he held his hand up to stop her.

"When I was fighting through the Hegemony, I got plenty of information as to who you Council folks really are. It only made sense that most of the information I got was most likely wrong. We didn't even know you existed a week ago. But seeing you cowards… well, the slaves and the Quarians were right."

"Who the hell are you calling cowards?" yelled the Turian, pushing his way through to get to Mitchell and confront him.

"You, that's who!" he said as he stared down the young Turian, who nonetheless was a good foot taller than him. "I was told you four are the symbol of galactic dominance. And yet look at all this shit! Your own people enslaved by this third rate power? You force a race to wander the stars for crimes centuries ago? You didn't bother to properly uplift a race or even think through the consequences of doing so to fight _your_ wars? Hell, you can't even take out a bunch of pirates. You're not a galactic power."

The Turian fired back, pointing his talon at Mitchell's chest, as though he was firing from the hip, "Yes we are, you stupid pyjack! It was we, the Council that crushed the Rachni! It was the Council that put down the Krogan. We are the law and order of the galaxy, not you!"

Mitchell laughed at his response, then gave his own as he slapped his talon from his chest, "You? Don't waste your breath chirping, bird! We humans are no bringer of order. Hell, we may not even have our own affairs in order. But when we see wrong, when we are wronged, we do what we must to rectify the problem. If you want to run away to your special place and pretend everything is fine, go ahead." He pointed back over to where they came from, leading into the tunnel and to the elevator to the bunker entrance. "Go and run away. We don't need your help and you sure as hell are no threat to us. We will find the Chairman and bring this war to an end. Better to die fixing someone else's problem than wait for it to become your own. And hell, if we feel justified, we'll show the Council just how a real galactic power deals with a problem…"

The Turian quickly charged and socked him across the face, though Mitchell took only a few steps back to give a bit of space, almost expecting the retaliation. The other Marines quickly fell back from the rooms as the Turian tried to continue attacking him, but he then found himself held back with both arms by the others Council troops. As Mitchell checked his jaw, the Turian looked back, seeing Julia holding him back as she slowly shoved him to the ground in a lock. Matheson and Jenkins quickly got in front of Mitchell and took aim at them, but he quickly moved them aside.

"You don't like feeling weak, huh?" he said, chuckling afterwards as he pointed at him, "Well then. Your corporal here said the Hierarchy has the finest military in the galaxy. Prove it!"

He shook them off and stood back up, staring eye locked at Mitchell, who smiled and waited for him to respond in any form. The Turian looked back to Julia, unable to respond in any meaningful way that would get to him.

"We cannot let this man insult the Empire! It is your duty as the ranking member to deal with arrogant people like him."

She looked at him. She was angered by the young Turian Marine's insubordination in provoking Mitchell to insult them. She was more so angered over Mitchell's reaction. She looked to the other two, both waiting for her to respond. She then looked back at the Turian.

"Stand down, Private Fedorian…" She looked around, accounting for the group of Terran Marines in front of her and flanking behind her from the other rooms, "I don't intend to let him do so."

Julia pushed him aside and walked up to Mitchell, rifle in hand. She stared down the human. She then spoke, clear and with the authority of a Turian soldier.

"The mission of my squad is clear. And it was clear long before your arrival. The Hegemony's act against us is an act of war. We are here to deal with those responsible. If my mission aligns with yours, then we will aid your force. But we do so on our own accord, not for some ideas you preach. For the Hierarchy, for the Council, and for our cause. Are we understood, Lieutenant?"

Mitchell stood there, eyes locked with the Turian. He responded, impressed by her calm, calculated answer. He was almost more scared by her clear statement than by the young man's shouting. "Perfectly." He turned to Matheson. "So do we have the bunker layout?"

"Yes, sir. I believe he is in a central control room, deep straight ahead. But there is a large heat signature near a section of private quarters. I advise we hit that first." He opened up his watch and displayed a map. "They set up main defenses near a control room overlooking the main passage to the Chairman. But we got him cornered. The Chairman has nowhere to run now."

Mitchell waved off his men to continue ahead and take point. "We have a fight ahead of us. Corporal Themius, does this attack layout sound agreeable?"

"We will proceed with your plan." She turned to her men and nodded to them to do as told. "Private, take point with their forward."

Though it was followed with quick hesitation, they acknowledge the order and followed the Marines.

Mitchell and Julia followed up behind them all. She turned to the human, "That was… interesting."

Mitchell chuckled, "Was it? I must say, your people really are soldiers. Nothing but a little motivational speech to get them back in line."

She smiled, "A motivational speech? You belittled him, his ideals, and called us all cowards."

Mitchell chuckled as he popped a new battery into his shotgun, "I've heard of harsher ways to motivate a soldier. I thought I was being kind. Like a mother bird throwing her nestling off a cliff."

"I guess…" she stopped and Mitchell followed suit. He then noticed his armor pressing up against his body and he looked down. There, the barrel of her sniper rifle was jabbed right on his stomach, in between two chest plates. He looked up, Julia pretending not to be paying attention.

"Don't call us birds though."

"Whatever a pyjack is, don't call us that either, and I think we will be at an understanding."

* * *

 **Part 2:**

 **Torfan Bunker Lower Level  
June 8, 2167 15:00:00 UTC**

"Wha-What's going on?"

The Batarians continued moving furniture into the small open space of the bunker's VIP quarters section, all positioned to take cover from the one corridor leading into the bunker's subterranean entrance. The intruders were getting deeper into the bunker, but they were going to face far more than recruits and raiders.

There were a dozen of them, the elite Hegemony Special Intervention Unit. The finest soldiers the Batarians had to offer, it was the SIU that opened the war's beginning and forced the Turians back through their own territory. It was only due to the true elites of the Turians, the Ghost Infiltrator to sabotage them and the Havoc Marine to drive out their invading armies, along with the painfully small numbers of the Unit due to unnecessarily hazardous training that made them ineffective in assuring Hegemony victory. Even then, the remaining few were the best the Batarians had and could match most enemies. But even they had never faced an enemy like an overzealous Terran before.

As the soldiers moved more furniture from the Chairman's quarters to the blockade, their commanding officer turned around. In a corner were three female Quarians, huddling close to one another.

They were Kavos's prized pets; Quarians were relatively easy to enslave, though to have them as long term slaves normally took for a master with high resources, and the want to keep them. Two of them were young, in their mid thirties, with tattered scarfs and worn out suits. In spite of their youth inside their suits, they were just one of his many servants. The third one in the middle, holding the other two close to her was far older. She was well dressed, in a surprisingly fancy enviro-suit. She had diamonds encrusted along the edge her hood scarf, with fine Asari silk that formed the pattern of the Kavos coat of arms on it. She was the object of his sick desire that no Asari could ever fill.

She looked to the officer as the other two huddled in her arms. Taking quick notice, he spoke.

"Shut the fuck up, you damn rat!"

The room shook as the Terrans began the bombardment of the surface once more. The officer stumbled a bit as some rocks fell from the concrete ceiling. As he got a grip of himself, he heard gunfire from the open space. He looked over to see through the door as the Unit troops fired from the barricade. He then looked back to the Quarians. He had the job of safe guarding Chairman Kavos' prized pets.

He walked over and grabbed the older Quarian. She got up and brought the two younger ones with her. He dragged them to a closet and threw them in.

"Now stay in here! The Chairman will have my head if you try to escape."

The two Quarians huddled back with the elder in fear. She however snarled at him. She was a slave, but to a very powerful man.

"I saw Kavos fry larger fishes than you. He'll kill you anyway just for letting the Council troops get away, then letting them counterattack and getting this far."

He walked in and grabbed the elder Quarian by the hood. He then slammed her against the wall and snarled at her, his face in her mask as he grumbled, gunshots just outside.

"The Chairman always likes his sex toys to be feisty." He dropped her on the ground, but reached for the other two instead with each hand. He gripped his hands around each of their necks and pinned them to the wall. They were slowly strangled, kicking their feet near her head as he looked back down on her. "But I don't. Now… are you going to behave?"

"Yes, yes! Please don't hurt them!" she quickly replied.

"I thought so. Fucking rats."

He dropped them back onto the ground. She quickly put her arms around them, comforting them as they quietly cried, as she taught them to do whenever they were abused. He grunted and shut the closet door. As they huddled in the dark room, the officer rushed back into the fighting.

* * *

"For the Empire and the Cause!"

The Turian Marine charged ahead, the Asari running quickly behind him as she projected a biotic barrier to cover the Council troops' charge. Ahead of them, the Batarian Unit held the line and fired into the tunnel.

Mitchell pointed forward towards them, with no intention of being outdone by the Turian.

"Marines, charge! For Terra and the Federation!"

He erected his own kinetic barrier and charged forward at regular running speed, one hand raised for the barrier as he fired his shotgun. Quickly behind was the often under credited, but well fought Terran Marines, charging with him as they fired.

The Council troops reached the blockade first, the Asari lashing out a blast to knock their makeshift barricade. Julia and the others took cover as they entered the breach and fired on the Batarians. One Unit soldier vaulted over and engaged Julia in hand to hand combat as she locked her sniper rifle with his rifle. She managed to utilize her training first and twirled her rifle, forcing the Batarian's rifle out of his hand. She then quickly took out her ceramic blade, a family heirloom, and stabbed him in the unprotected neck. Meanwhile, the young male continued the offensive and charged over, an omniblade bayonet on the business end of his Phaeston. Three Units turned to face him, but Julia and the Salarian turned to take two of them out, allowing the brash Turian to handle the center and stab him with his rifle. The Marine fired, pushing the Unit soldier off his blade as he fought off the rest.

On the Terran's side, Mitchell dropped his barrier and kinetically charged at them. He rephrased in time and smashed through the barrier while taking out a few of them. He got up and leveled his shotgun, firing away. Matheson and Jenkins covered their lieutenant's side. They both quickly got into close combat with Unit soldiers, but the two veteran sergeants utilized their martial arts and more advanced power armor to break their opponents' arms and kick them back, where Mitchell then gunned them down. As his squad poured in and took cover, he got his shotgun knocked out of his hand by one of the elite Unit officers, but he quickly reacted by deploying his omniblade on his left and his titanium straight edge combat knife on his right from his chest. He charged through their disorganized line, stabbing away in a butchering frenzy, his long omniblade carving through swarms of Unit and elite regular soldiers as he got close and pierced through power armor and Batarian skin.

In short order, the double head on attack worked, crushing their first taste of the Batarian's best. Mitchell looked around, glad of the successful engagement. As he directed his Marines to check the rooms, Julia looked over to see a bleeding, but very much alive officer crawl into a room.

She pursued, taking the other Turian with her as the others checked the rooms on their side. Mitchell looked over and took notice as well. He looked for his shotgun before walking over.

Julia and the Marines walked in as the officer managed to get back up, all the while grabbing on to a rifle wound in his abdomen. He turned and saw then, before bolting towards the next room. They gave chase into a bedroom, seeing him open a closet door. As they raised their weapons, he came out, choke holding one off the younger slave Quarians in his arm as he raised his sidearm at them.

"Stay the fuck back!"

They held position as the Unit officer positioned the Quarian as a shield. The male Turian turned to Julia and whispered.

"Corporal, I'll distract him. Get a shot from your rifle."

She turned to him as she zeroed in her scope, "I could easily hit the Quarian!"

He rolled his eyes, "Spirits, it's a suit rat. Why does it matter?"

They continued staring down one another when Mitchell walked in. He raised his shotgun when he saw the Batarian, but lowered it when he noticed the hostage. He held his hand out to try and calm him.

"Ok, ok... Everyone just calm down."

"I said get the fuck back!"

Mitchell took a single step back, "We will. Now look… soldier. You're still surrounded. Just surrender now and you'll be treated fairly."

"I will not surrender. You're trying to wipe my race out!"

"We are here as liberators. No one else needs to die," said Mitchell, a bit more annoyed.

"Just surrender now!" yelled the Turian Marine, "Hiding behind a rat is no different than not hiding at all! No one here cares."

Mitchell quickly turned to him, "I do, damnit!" He then slowly took a step forward, "Let her go and I promise no harm on you."

The Unit officer fired a shot, hitting the ground in front of Mitchell. "How the hell can you promise that?"

"He can't!"

The elder Quarian attacked from behind, a hand chop to his exposed neck. He momentarily collapsed, letting go of the younger one. But the Batarian turned around as he stumbled and fired, wounding the elder Quarian and puncturing her suit. She quickly fell, the younger one screaming out as the others rushed to react.

Mitchell was the first and quickly pulled out his combat knife. As the Batarian officer regained his posture, Mitchell threw it, lodging his knife a few centimeters deep into his head, straight between the eyes. He fell to the ground as Mitchell ran up, making a slap in the knee in celebration of his bull's eye aim. The others rushed over to the wounded Quarian, followed by Mitchell once he was done.

On the ground, the young Quarian slave tried to tend to the elder's wounds, the second one leaving the closet to help, but neither knew what to do. As she coughed up blood in her mask, Mitchell ran over as the rest of the Terran and Council troops arrived.

"She's bleeding out!"

Jenkins ran over and kneed down as he took out his med kit. He quickly wiped the blood away and disinfected the wound, before wrapping bandages over. But as he instinctively reached for a hypospray shot, Matheson stopped him.

"Wait, Jenkins. That's levo! We need a dextrose shot."

He stopped and looked around for a moment. He then looked up at the Turian marine. "Hey you, give me an antibiotic shot."

They all turned to the Turian Marine. "W-what? Me?"

"Yes, you dumbass. Hand me your med kit. You're bound to have one."

He took a step back, "I am not giving her one of my medications."

Mitchell yelled at him, "What the hell do you mean?"

"Because of these damn suit rats, my father is a laughing stock! One of the highest ranking officials in the Hierarchy, and they call him a 'suit rat sympathizer' behind his back. One less damn rat, the better!"

"Unbelievable!" Mitchell quickly took aim, sticking his shotgun under the Turian's chin. "Either you give the Quarian your med kit, or I'll pry it of your dead bird body. You won't be needing it then!"

As the Turian looked down, suddenly horrified of an immediate death, Julia and the others backed away from the Terrans and took battle positions. The rest of the Terrans did the same, but the Terrans surrounded them, rifles raised behind their back. Mitchell and the Turian Marine in the middle. The Turian tried to stare back at the Terran holding his shotgun under his head, but Mitchell stared back, locking eyes as he readied to pull the trigger.

One of the younger Quarians cried out to them as they stood off.

"Please don't let Mommy die!"

The Turian, tense and ready to attack, relented and nodded in agreement. Mitchell lowered his shotgun. He grabbed his own med kit from his armor and tossed it to Jenkins. He quickly took out the dextro shot and injected it as he reapplied the bandages with one with a special gel adhesive. He then positioned her back against the wall. She regained consciousness and turned to her two daughters.

As she hugged them, Mitchell began walking away, pointing his squad over to the exit.

"Bravo Squad, move out!"

Jenkins joined back as they began to leave and took point to head deeper in. Mitchell turned to Julia, a plain expression on his face as he gestured to her. She stared for a moment, then complied and ordered the rest of them to follow. As they moved out, he called out to the Turian Marine as he was the last one out.

"This isn't over, _bird_!"

The Turian snarled and continued on. Mitchell grabbed a rifle laying nearby and dropped it in front of the Quarians. As the elder one looked up, Mitchell walked away.

"Congratulations… you're free."

* * *

 **Part 3:**

 **Torfan Bunker Control Room  
June 8, 2167 16:00:00 UTC**

"We take this room, and it'll be a straight shot to the Chairman."

They took position at the two main entrances into the center control room. Mitchell looked to Jenkins at the other door and took out an insertion charge, prompting him to do the same. Across the door was the other Turian, rifle ready as he waited. Mitchell slapped the charge on the door and counted down from four as he signaled with his hand. When he clenched his fist, the charge went off, blowing the door into the room, followed quickly by the other door.

On each door, they rushed in guns blazing. But the Batarians were waiting, their guns aimed at the door as they took cover down below at the first few rows of consoles, near the main center screen. From two rooms behind the main screen, Army soldiers and Unit shock troopers rushed in and took position as they fired up at them with greater intensity. They bunkered down, for they were the last line of defense to the Chairman.

At the back of the room, the group took cover as they maneuvered closer, laying down enough suppressing fire to take the next row of consoles. Mitchell's group had their Kinetic raise a barrier, giving them the breathing room to stand up from cover and return fire. Jenkin's group did the same, the Asari raising her own biotic barrier. The Batarians lacked their own biotic and took cover at the front, fighting upward. But they began lobbing grenades across the room, forcing them back as each explosion weakened their barriers.

The Unit shock troopers quickly assessed the situation and began to focus their fire on the Terran kinetic to their left. They all took aim at a single point of the Marine's barrier and laid down plenty of fire. From that, his barrier broke as he fell back from the kinetic backlash. Now having Mitchell's team exposed, the Batarians opened fire, and quickly killed four from Matheson's squad and two from Echo, including the Kinetic before he could resurrect a barrier. Mitchell then tried to raise his own barrier as he pulled the Kinetic behind cover.

He signaled the other group to move towards them. The Asari continued to provide cover as they shifted towards the center. Jenkins, Julia, and a few staying back to provide cover fire. But as they shifted, the rocket troopers were brought out and prepared to blow out the stronger barrier of the Asari.

Mitchell's group attempted to add on to the fire to keep them pinned, but they only returned it plus more, giving the rocket trooper the space to load a power cell as Unit troopers laid down fire and shredded the computer consoles. Mitchell tried to yell at them to stop, but they couldn't hear as they continued to slowly advance across the middle, the barrier wide open to everyone. He tried again to create an opening to return fire, firing blindly at the Batarian shock troops, but was forced back down as the console screens around him were shattered by gunfire.

He turned to Matheson, yelling through the chaos around, "We need a frag down hill!"

"We're out! But still I got a flash bang."

"Tom, blind them! I'll charge and bury them!"

"Gotcha!"

Matheson grabbed a flashbang and peered around a console, looking down at the staircase to the bottom of the control room. He looked over to see where the shock troopers were. He then tossed it, the grenade bouncing down the stairway. He ducked when the flashbang went off, blinding the Batarians for a short moment. With a quick energize, Mitchell jumped out and charged at the stunned rocket trooper, phasing through rows of computer consoles and air full of sand grain round.

He slammed into the rocket trooper, who misfired his launcher as he fell and blew out several of the lighting fixtures hanging low from the ceiling. Mitchell wrestled him to the ground, but the far more experienced trooper fought back, holding back Mitchell's omniblade wielding arm. He still yelled out for his comrades to help him, but they were quickly pinned by the Marine's counter attack. But as they struggled, they rolled away from them, leaving the launcher on the ground.

One of the shock troopers reached over and grabbed the launcher. Mitchell saw him, but the trooper he was fighting got the advantage and pinned him down as the other one prepared to launch. He continued to struggle, before seeing an opening near the bottom. Mitchell energized his kinetics and kinetically kneed him in the groin, bashing through his armor. He then pushed him off and reached for the combat knife on his chest before plunging it into the trooper's neck.

Mitchell quickly rose and pulled his pistol out, but the shock trooper fired the rocket launcher. In a moment, the rocket flew through the room and exploded, blowing the Asari's barrier clean through, throwing her against the wall while the remaining Batarians opened fired at the exposed Marines. They bunkered back down behind the remains of the bullet shredded console. Both sides quickly traded fire, quickly trading losses as well. Mitchell ducked back down, dodging his own sides' fire as he crawled back to the Batarians' front. He then leaped up into the air and back down behind the Batarians, charging his kinetics as he unleashed a nova blast.

From there, the rest moved up and shot down the rest of the Unit shock troopers as they stumbled about from the nova blast. They moved up to the front as Mitchell picked off the remaining stragglers.

* * *

"Enemy down," Mitchell turned to Matheson, "Head count."

Matheson looked around, "Jordan, Greer, Nithya are KIA. Watman and Lucial are wounded."

Julia walked up to him, the other Turian and Jenkin's remaining squad in tow.

"I loss Ioanna and Fargon. Half my force gone."

"We can't go further!" objected the Turian, "We barley had the force to assault this bunker. Now what? About seven of us left that are able to fight?"

Matheson turned back, "He has a point."

Mitchell leaned back against the raised platform in front of the command screen. He rubbed his eyes as he thought of what to do.

"Damn it… Jenkins, get on the line to command. We need relief. Take point at the exits."

As they regrouped, he looked back at the main screen overlooking the room, still intact. He used his watch to hack into the command computers. Different files and images began to appear as he coursed through the computer's databanks.

"I doubt there's anything important in those computers, Mitchell," said Matheson as he looked through the bodies on the ground, taking account of both sides' casualties, "Our intel say this was just a raider base, not their EURAD."

"This bunker is too well fitted to be for slavers. Something useful here… wait."

The screen stopped and they all looked up, unsure to make of what they saw. It showed the schematic of a large ship, more than two kilometers long. It had weird extruding structures in the front that form a haft circle. Its main body was large and curved, like a sack. Where the structures and body met where two large spherical objects.

"Is that a ship?" asked Julia.

"It looks like those squids the Hanar like to eat," said the Turian.

Mitchell kept skimming through, "But what the hell is it doing on a Batarian computer full of top secret information?"

Matheson continued to look the bodies and knelt down to examine one dead Unit officer. As they continued to discuss what the large object was, he moved the body. Unaware, it opened its eyes, a dark, flashing blue tint lighting out. It looked over to them. Then it saw what was being displayed on the board.

With a deep, scratchy roar, it shoved Matheson away and quickly stood up to charge at Mitchell at the console. Omniblade ready, the possessed Batarian ran at an impossible speed at them. They all turned to see, but all moved slower than the Batarian. Mitchell raised his arms to create a barrier, but the other Turian saw as the tip of the blade already entered past it. With a jolt, he moved and tackled Mitchell out of the way. The blade then pierced him and in only a single second it all happened, the Batarian impaled him into the console, electrocuting them both as the computer began to short circuit.

Mitchell quickly got back up and grabbed the Batarian off of the Turian. He shoved him to the ground and with a kinetic charge up, punched his head in, smashing it whole along the tile ground.

He stared for a moment, his fist glowing a dark blue that amplified the red blood that coated it as it rested several inches into the ground. He slowly pulled it out and thought for a moment about what he did. He then turned back and rushed to the Turian. He laid on the ground, resting under the console board as he coughed up blood, the blue liquid complimenting his teal colored armor and the white tattoo marks on his face.

Julia attempted to bandage his wound, ignoring the clearly large, deep and fatal wound he had. But he knew better and gave a short, painful chuckle as he weakly pushed her away.

"I… I guess I won't be needing… that shot after all…"

He then turned to Mitchell, kneeing next to him as he stared at him in disbelief. The man he chastised as a coward an hour ago, who he nearly shot just minutes ago, just saved him, at the cost of himself.

"Lieu… Lieutenant."

"Yes?"

"We are… different people. But similar in a way, I think. Duty, honor… service. That's what we fight for… To achieve order, peace… To do what is right. But they can't be achieved without sacrifice." He tilted his head a bit back and forth until he was able to look at Mitchell. "If you want to do what is right, what you think is right, I hope you Terrans are prepared… for that. My life has been… Nothing but."

"I… I…"

As he continued to cough up blood, Mitchell stood up straight. He looked down on the dying Turian and saluted him. The two Turians looked at him, startled by the near identical military salute. The Turian struggled, rising his talon to his own head. With his own response, he saluted back and then collapsed onto the ground.

Julia sat back up, speechless as she stared at him, then turned to Mitchell. He did the same and asked a question about the son of the leading Turian admiral.

"What… what was his name?"

She looked back to the dead Turian for a moment, then turned to Mitchell to respond. "Private Drusus Fedorian… This was his first tour of duty out of training. Serving under his father's fleet."

"Well." He sighed reached over and grabbed his rifle. "A flawed man, like most. But braver than most too. He deserves more than this."

* * *

 **Part 4:**

 **Tofran Bunker Control Backroom  
June 8, 2167 16:30:00 UTC**

As they began to leave, they heard a gunshot behind them. They turned to the front of the room and looked over to the two side doors leading into the control room. They advanced towards one of the doorways. Suddenly, from out of the door, an Asari stumbled out, clenching her chest. She then fell on the ground.

They quickly ran up to her, flipping her onto her back. But she had already succumbed to her wounds.

"Spirits! That's the Asari ambassador!"

"Whoever shot her is still in there. Matheson, take the other door. Jenkins, hold ground. Themius, you're with me."

They split up and headed through the door. The small corridor was dark, but there was a decent amount of light the other end. They quickly reached the other end, emerging into a small room. Their first impression was that of a storage room full of covered crates. But when they fully entered, they raised their weapons at the one Batarian in the room, holding a female Turian in a headlock. He noticed them and quickly raised his gun at them, then turned the barrel and jabbed it at the Turian's head.

"Get the hell away from me!"

They stopped and took aim, keeping an eye on the Batarian.

"Who's the Turian?" asked Mitchell.

"That's the Turian ambassador for the Hegemony," replied Julia.

The Batarian continued to panic, breathing hysterically as he kept the gun to her head. "Get back or I'll blow her brains out!"

Mitchell lowered his rifle and held his hand up, gesturing him to calm down. Julia kept her weapon raised, zeroing in her scope at one of the Batarian's eyes.

"Calm down now. We can talk this out."

He looked over, seeing Matheson coming in from the other door. Mitchell pointed at the Batarian with his lips and he took the signal. Unnoticed by the Batarian, he began to make his way around to him.

"Calm down? You pyjacks are crazy! You're… impossible! We should be the one's conquering you!"

Julia spoke, dialing in on the scope. "And you say that, why?"

"A week ago, we sent a thousand ships in to attack their colony closest to us. We should have succeeded. It took weeks for you to retake the first colony we captured."

"Well, it didn't happen. The Sol Fleet quickly arrived and repelled them in hours," said Mitchell. He slowly began to walk in a circle to his right, getting Julia to follow in turn. The Batarian slowly shifted to face them, presenting his back to Matheson.

"That bastard Kavos! When you appeared on the Citadel, he was dead set on finding where you came from and attack immediately. If the Council knew we did that, we could face another war with them as well."

The Turian ambassador looked up and spoke, clam and annoyed, "You are facing a war right now! You there… Terran, right? How many ships did you send against these idiots?"

Mitchell rose an eyebrow in confusion. "We sent the entire Second fleet. Around ten thousand ships…"

"Ha! Ten thousand ships. You four eyed idiots pissed off the wrong race. I almost envy you, Terran. The Hierarchy should have done this years ago. If only Junius was still alive."

He tightened his grip on her neck, "Shut up you! These Terrans are a danger to the whole galaxy! They nuked their way to get to us. They are on a path of vengeance. You saw what they did to the largest Council ship in the galaxy? They can't be stopped."

"We want peace. We want order. We fight for what is right. The only danger we pose are to people like you, who threaten our way of life."

"You threaten _our_ way of life!"

Mitchell chuckled, "'Way of life'? You're just a bunch of slavers who need to be put down."

The Batarian yelled out in frustration. "Damn hypocrite!"

The ambassador looked over to Julia, annoyed all the while as she slowly choked, "Hey you, Corporal. This is an order. Shoot the idiot."

"Shut up before I shoot you! I have no intention of dying here."

Mitchell looked over, Matheson still trying to sneak around crates and junk on the ground to get the jump on him.

"Look… whoever you are…"

"I am the Batarian ambassador for the Citadel Council!"

"Former!" said the Turian, laughing at the man who still had a gun against her head. "The Hegemony captured unsecured messages from your fleet. The pyjacks here and the Council think you died when they bombarded your home colony to prove a point to you."

He aimed his gun in the air and fired. "They killed everyone I knew! My friends, my family. And they weren't first."

"Look… ambassador. We can be diplomatic. Release the Turian ambassador and we'll let you live. You'll get a fair trial and the works. Like any democracy in the galaxy."

"Fair? 'Like any democracy in the galaxy'? You don't know how the galaxy works. And if I release her, you shoot me! You Terran pyjacks are no different than anyone else in the galaxy. Hell, you're even worse than we are. Your grand illusion that you are great and mighty, that you are morally superior to us. You're more conceded than the most pompous Asari. You claim to fight evil like us. But you're only the thing you fight."

Mitchell bit down on his teeth, "Please… don't call me a damn pyjack!"

He fired again into the air. "Or what? You'll kill me?"

"Not him. Me!"

Matheson jumped him and locked him in his arms, slowly strangling him. The ambassador released the Turian ambassador and attempted to undo the choke hold on him. She jumped out of the way and ordered them to shoot, but the ambassador lifted Matheson up with his own arms and moved him around, blocking their shot.

"Get off me!"

"Make me, you ugly four eyed bastard."

"Fine!"

As the ambassador walked about and struggled to get him off, he took his pistol and took aim at one of Matheson's hands. He then fired, the round going straight through the Terran's hand and into his upper chest. He lost his grip and the ambassador shrugged him off, spinning to undo his grip as Matheson fell back. He then took aim and fired repeatedly at him point blank into his chest.

The others quickly responded. Julia took her shot at him a few meters away, cutting off the Batarian's hand. Mitchell then charged at him, bashing him straight into the wall. He grabbed his head and started beating it relentlessly, breaking his face in as he bashed his head deeper into the hole in the wall. As more blood drenched onto his hand and armor, he grabbed the Batarian and stood him back up before deploying his omnitool.

He yelled out, " _Sic semper Tyrannis_!"

Then with one clean, full slash, he cut down the Batarian across the waist. Mitchell stood there in his fighting stance, his breathing heavy and quick as he watched the Batarian slit in half and fall to the ground. He continued his line of thought as it faded out.

" _Ad mortem… ad mortem_."

He looked down as blood polled around his armor boots. He took a moment to breathe, looking at his work. He then took a step, seeing more blood coming in from another direction. He looked and ran over the short distance before falling to his knees to cradle his dying friend.

"Tom!"

Mitchell removed his helmet, the young man, who had been an older brother to him, smiling as his suit auto injected morphine, numbing his wounds.

"I… like what you did there. Like that time you made us watch _Julius Caesar_."

Mitchell smiled at the comment and chuckled, though he slowly began to tear up. "You know, he never said that in real life or in the play."

"Oh, well then…" He couched up more blood as he tried to speak, shaking his as he smiled. "Then I didn't learn anything then." Matheson reached for his side compartment and pulled out several more tags. He then reached over to grab his own. "You're going to want this."

"It's a disaster, isn't it Tom? I-I… I got everyone killed…"

"But we haven't been beaten yet…" He tossed the dog tags to him and slowly reached over to slap his watch. A holo screen opened, a red blip at the bottom. He coughed some more and spoke. "There's the prize. Make it worth our while…"

Mitchell looked at the tags for a moment, most of his platoon in the form of several titanium pressed, laser inscribes dog tags. He turned to Matheson, his hand open and left hanging. Mitchell grabbed hold and shook.

"You got it, Tom."

"Good, good. Huh… If you ever see Finch again. Shoot him for me, would you?"

He wiped the tears from his eyes. "Hell, that was my plan for shore leave."

He stared at him as he let out his last, blood soaked breath, "You're a good friend Reggie… Reggie…"

Mitchell let go of his hand and moved to close his eyes. A moment passed as Mitchell stayed there, looking at the corpse of his best friend and alternating with the dog tags of everyone under his command. Julia walked up to him, but he stood up as she approached.

He reached back down to picked up Matheson's shotgun. He got back up and began to walk back down the hallway he came through, passing by Julia and the ambassador. His face was now emotionless, plain and straight with his eyes open and focused on one thing. Julia looked over and tried to follow, but the ambassador stopped her.

She shook her head in disapproval. "Don't follow him. You know every well where he's going."

"He needs help! Uh, ma'am," said Julia, quick to defend him.

"The words he spoke. So much like those of the ancients' tongue."

"What? What did he say?"

"He called himself a bringer of death." She then frowned, "To a tyrant, maybe. But clearly to anyone near him."

* * *

 **Part 5:**

 **Torfan Bunker Command Room  
June 8, 2167 17:30:00 UTC**

He charged down the hallway tunnel, hypersonic sand grains flying past him as his remaining men tried to stay up. He re-synced back into space and collided into one Batarian at the end of the hall, knocking him in the wall. Two more attempted to attack him from two ends, but Mitchell quickly leveled his shotgun to his hip and fired, before deploying his omnitool and cutting down the second one.

Down the next stretch of tunnel, the Batarians last remaining SIUs, now supported by inexperienced conscripts and raiders, set up another line of defense. Jenkins and the last two Marines took cover and returned fire across the wide tunnel leading to the Chairman. But while they bunkered down to the overwhelming number they still had, Mitchell refused to be phased. He got to the front of their line and ordered them to lob flashbangs.

As soon as they exploded, Mitchell charged again. This time he aimed just above the main concentration and phased back in, his arm retracted. He then dropped and unleashed a nova blast in the middle of several men as they flew back, more Unit shock troopers charged at him. They swarmed at him at once, but Mitchell slashed them down in droves. He then continued walking down the tunnel, gunning down the shock troopers as they came at him with an auto shotgun in one hand and Fedorian's rifle in the other.

Jenkins ran up to him, keeping low as the Batarians fired upon them and as Mitchell returned in kind.

"Sir! This is insane. There are only four of us left. The Chairman's cornered. Why do we not wait for reinforcements? Angel Company is already deploying!"

"Because we can push through and end the war, now!" One Batarian charged at them, but Mitchell quickly mowed him down, filling him with bullets the size of BBs and sand grain.

Behind a crate, one of Jenkin's soldiers yelled over to him. "Sergeant! Miller's been shot!"

"Fall back, Jenkins."

"There are over thirty more ahead!"

"Fall back! That's an order!"

* * *

They threw grenades at them, but Mitchell formed a kinetic barrier and lashed out to bounce them back at the Batarians. Jenkins cursed out, and reluctantly fell back as Mitchell continued on. The remaining shock troopers began to fall back to the Chairman's control room, but Mitchell followed close behind.

Mitchell continued his advance, ready for a slaughter. The Batarians, recruit and Unit alike, grew desperate to get away from the crazed Terran. As the rest of them, mostly untrained recruits, tried to stop Mitchell, the officers tried to force their way into the panic room. Its door was shut tight. Mitchell watched with disgust as they desperately tried to get in.

He took the initiative and took out a sack charge he had grabbed off Jenkins. Holding up a kinetic barrier to block their fire, he lifted up the charge with his other hand and thrusted it across the tunnel and on the door. Upon impact, it exploded and let out a powerful wave. A large blast hole opened the way in as the remaining Batarians outside lay on the ground, moaning in pain. Mitchell quickly dispatched then and proceeded to enter the room.

Quickly, the last shock troopers guarding Kavos tried to ambush him, one coming at him from behind and locked his head in with a rifle as another charged at him with an omniblade. Mitchell quickly did the same as the ambassador and lifted his choker up, swinging him round and at the blade. The trooper stopped charging, but Mitchell faced him again and kicked him in the chest. He then jumped back and slammed the other one into the wall. Mitchell quickly shot him and the other, and proceeded to enter the room proper.

He walked over and saw the room was another control room. He walked to a railing looking down into the rest of the room. Two more guards were left, young and scared as they stared Mitchell down. They dropped their weapons, but Mitchell only raised his in return.

"No quarter!"

He quickly blasted them away and approached the railing. A few rows of consoles, a central command table, and a large panoramic view of glass that overlooked a large cavern. He saw the remaining generals and admirals around the table, Chairman Ut'lok Kavos at the end closest to the view of the cavern.

* * *

Mitchell dropped his weapons and pulled out his pistol and fired at the table, destroying its mass effect holo-emitter. They were immediately startled and looked over as Mitchell jumped off and onto the table. Two admirals quickly pulled out their side arms, but Mitchell lifted them up with his kinetics and slammed them against the glass view, cracking the window and their skulls. He turned to the others and gestured to them with his pistol to head to the viewport and line up with the pistol.

They lined up along the window and looked at him as he walked to the end. He looked down at the Chairman.

Mitchell looked down and chuckled before speaking. "An audience with the Chairman. Aren't I…"

A general spoke out in objection, but Mitchell quickly shot him in the head. He kept staring down at the frightened Kavos all the while.

"Aren't I lucky… I shall be the one speaking. So… Kavos. I read your 'codex'. A war hero." He looked down at the Batarian, a skinny man that seems to be slowly deteriorating right in front of him, "That's… hard to believe."

"It's true!" yelled another officer.

Mitchell fired, killing another admiral. Three remained, including Kavos. Kavos looked up at him.

"We surrender! Stop shooting them!"

"Tell me, Kavos." He jumped down and sat on the table, pointing his gun at him. "Your ambassador wasn't happy you wanted to attack us. Tell me, why?"

"What? You don't know?"

Mitchell stared at him. Then he shot another general, still eye locked with Kavos.

"No! Now answer me. You're running out of officers for me to shoot." He turned to the last admiral on Kavos's left and smiled. "Your boss is going to get you killed."

The computers across the room began to fluctuate, screens flashing as the power across the room fluctuated and the lights flickered. As they looked to see what was happening, the last admiral acted on it and charged Mitchell. But Mitchell quickly saw him and stabbed him with his omniblade.

"Correction; you got yourself killed." He dropped the body on the ground and turned to his watch. The power fluctuation then ended and his watch lit up with a comm link coming through. He kept his gun aimed at Kavos as he answered. "This is Mitchell. Come in."

A moment of static before he spoke through with clarity, "This is the _Harpers Ferry_. Are you reading us? We hacked their comm system."

"Control. I'm reading you. I have Chairman Kavos in custody."

"Roger. Connecting you to General Williams."

A moment of static came through as the signal routed through the Batarian computers, "Good job, Lieutenant. We landed Angel Company and they're making their way to the bunker unimpeded."

"Yes, sir. Actually, I was about to make him tell me why the Hegemony tried to invade us. Do you wish to hear?"

On board the _Ferry_ , Williams stood up off the table, surprised. "Well… ok then. Make him squeal. I want to know." He switched his line to his private ear piece and left the bridge.

"Get ready to record, General." Mitchell raised his gun at his face, prompting him to speak.

"How do you not know?" said Kavos, confused by the entire act. "Over thirty years ago, you attacked us! Destroyed one of our colonies!"

"Impossible!" said Williams, immediately worrying over what he was saying as he kicked out several officers, including two admirals, out of an elevator for him to ride by himself. He continued when the doors sealed. "We never made First Contact! We have no evidence this happened."

Kavos growled, his mind wandering a bit before he could focus, "Neither did we, at first. We thought the Turians did it and launched a disastrous war against them."

Mitchell laughed at him. "It was stated that 'war' was a complete success."

"Don't be condescending. That war nearly wiped us out. The Turians only grew stronger. We grew weaker! After I became Chairman, I learned they didn't cause it. We recovered evidence from the planet you burned to a crisp that some hair ridden pyjack race were the ones who did that."

"So that's why you wanted to attack the moment that we found the Citadel."

"You proved you were real! I could wage the right war and conquer you!"

Williams spoke, watching them on his watch through a security cam in the room, "But we were ready. When Bowman found the planet, we were helpless. But now we are capable of conquering the galaxy…"

Kavos yelled, "You knew!"

Mitchell turned to his watch. "General, what do you mean?"

"Are they dead? Everyone else, are they dead?"

"Uh, well…" He looked to his left and right, several dead bodies resting against the glass, blood all over the floor, table, and viewport. "They were killed in the firefight against us."

"You lie, you hair ridden pyjack. Like my thieving pet rats! You executed them all!"

"They resisted… Resistance is futile!"

As they argued, Williams arrived in his private quarters. He opened his console and began downloading data from the bunker's computers. All the while, he turned back to the holoscreen over his watch, noticing the odd condition of the Chairman. From the bunker's systems, he began his search of the _Leviathan_ they both had sought after. A quick glance confirmed what he was looking at and what was happening to Kavos. Switching cameras in the bunker, he saw that the next wave of troops was all heading down the bunker.

"Lieutenant Mitchell."

"Sir."

"The man's deranged. But we still need Kavos. Secure him."

"Yes, sir."

Mitchell took aim and pointed at Kavos to get on his knees. He resisted, prompting Mitchell to force him down.

"You've lost, Kavos."

He spoke as Mitchell shoved him to his knees.

"I. Will not. Surrender!"

Kavos suddenly lashed out as he stood up and knocked back Mitchell. He stumbled back and landed at the table, but quickly regained his footing and took aim with his side arm. He froze for a moment. The scrawny old man was far different than before. His skin had become more grey and pale, his skin contracting and tightening around his bones in front of his very eyes. Finally, his eyes started to give out a glow as a blue light came out around the corers of his pupils.

"What the hell?"

Williams yelled out, seeing it all happen right on his screen.

"Fire! Kill him now!"

Mitchell regained his posture and fired at the slowly transforming Kavos. Kavos shifted his posture, two rounds lodging into his shoulder, but he shrugged it off as he looked down Mitchell. He then ran at him and clawed at him for a moment before grabbing on to his armor. He shook Mitchell around and used his husk strength to toss him across the table.

Mitchell got back up and took on a fighting position as Kavos leaped over the long table and at him. He got ahold once more, but Mitchell grabbed his arms and tried to pry him off. Locked close to each other, Mitchell continued watching as Kavos changed, the ridges of his face retracting and growing smooth as cavities formed on his face and neck, a bright blue glow coming out of it. He gave up trying to understand what was happening and got his hand free to punch him and get him off.

Kavos continued to attack him, trying to claw at him as he gave out a screech in front of his face, debilitating Mitchell. Williams watched all the while, seeing the security cam on one screen, and the recording of the huskified Batarians they found only a week ago. Kavos' transformation differed, but it was clear it was being caused by the same source. He looked on, realizing just how dangerous the enemy he was fighting really was.

Mitchell finally overpowered him and got his arm free. He managed to disable the husk Kavos and throw him across the table and onto the ground. Mitchell quickly charged, phasing through the table and slammed the disoriented husk.

Kavos was slammed straight into the glass viewport, his mind gone as the husk was dazed by the charged. Mitchell continued the attack and ran at him, deploying his omniblade. He got up close and thrusted, piecing the husk Kavos and the glass viewport behind him. As Kavos squirmed, Mitchell pulled his arm out, before realizing his blade was stuck. Behind the impaled Kavos, the glass began to crack. Mitchell started to panic. As he reached over to disengage his blade, the glass broke.

Mitchell quickly mag locked his boots instead as the glass gave way. Outside, the low pressure in the cavern began to suck air out from the control room. As he tried to resist the current, grabbing on to the frame on each side, Kavos continued to hold on to the frame of his armor. Mitchell looked forward, trying to get him off.

He let go of one frame and began punching the husk. But Kavos kept hold of him. All the while, an advance squad from Angel platoon entered the room and quickly rushed to a console to find an emergency containment field control. Slowly sliding on the floor into the cavern, Mitchell reached for his chest compartment and grabbed hold of the dog tags of his platoon. He quickly wrapped it around his hand and held tight as he pulled it out and kept punching Kavos, the fist sharpened with the titanium tags.

The husk yelled in a high pitched voice.

"You will die!"

Mitchell kept punching, "Stupid alien monster. Why won't you die!?"

Finally, after drenching his hand and platoon in the synthetic looking blood of Kavos, he gave out another loud screech, still locking on tight to him. At the control room entrance, Julia charged in and stopped to resist the current of air being blown out.

"Lieutenant Mitchell!"

As the others turned to her, she raised her rifle and quickly aimed for a small opening between her, Mitchell and the huskified Kavos. She fired, the lighting fast sand gran round scorching through the low pressure air. It flew past Mitchell, only centimeters to spare as he felt the concussion wave around the bullet, before it found its target, dead center between his four hollow eyes.

Kavos let go and was sucked out into the cavern below. As Mitchell came close to doing the same, an emergency kinetic barrier activated and closed the opening off as the pressure rebalanced.

As the squad above secured Julia and rushed around the side to get to Mitchell, he slid to the floor, his back resting on the barrier. He held his hand up and stared at the still gleaming tags of everyone he lost to end the war.

* * *

Williams sat back in his seat, his mouth a bit open as he stared at the screen in amazement.

"That was not according to plan…"

He switched off the camera feed and continued going through the data he gathered. Staring down the schematics of _Leviathan_ , he rubbed his eyes and leaned forward.

He shook his head and chuckled, "This… this will still do, though."

* * *

 _Terran Wikipedia_

 _ **Martian Utopia Naval Fleet yard**_

 _The Martian Utopia Naval Fleet yard is the main Naval construction yard for the Terran Navy. It is the largest fleet yard in the United Terran Federation, consisting of over two thousand construction shipyards, a thousand maintenance dry docks, and a hundred orbital logistic stations. Official ownership places it under the domain of the federal government, but as the core region of starship construction, it leases its management rights to numerous private contractors, who may use it for private construction. The main contractor running the military facilities is Ares Shipyard and Construction Co., a subsidiary of Quantum Core Industry. Over a million people are directly employed by the fleet yard, living either in the dome cities on Mars or on the nearby starbase. Much of the Martian economy is based around the shipyards._

 _Built from an expanded design of the shipyards around Earth, construction began in 2134 in preparation for the passing of the 2135 Militarization Act. Though the first shipyards came online months later, official end to construction of the entire fleet yard was in 2146. It was placed in areosynchronous orbit over the Utopia Planitia on Mars. Though official records placed the location as randomly selected, it is believed by many both inside and outside the Navy that this was in reference to the fictional Utopia Planitia Shipyard from Star Trek. Under its civilian use, the fleet yard is the main construction point of nearly all extra-solar insulation, including most major helium-3 collector stations, cargo ships, and civilian travel ships. The Martian Utopia Fleet yard had become the symbol of Terran industry._

 _Its status as the logistical foundation of the growing Terran Navy has also made it out as the heart of the Terran military industrial complex. In early 2148, a major terrorist attack by rebel forces on Earth succeeded in striking the yard and destroying several shipyards, dry docks, and the hull of the original twenty seventh flagship, the FSS Prime of Terra. The attack became the opening start of the Great Revival on Earth and led to the massive physical and communications black out of the Sol system during the war. During the war, it served as the main resupply port of the military deployed on Earth. Though damages in the long run were small and quickly repaired, the loss of two hundred-personnel, a hundred and twenty of which were civilians, has placed internal and external security at a high priority. In 2150 Resiliency Day, the name was officially changed from 'Martian Naval Fleet yard' to 'Martian Utopia Fleet yard' in honor of those who died in the attack with the dedication of looking forward to a brighter future._

 _As the largest fleet yard in the Federation, it is the site of construction of nearly half of the current Terran Navy. At its construction peak, nearly two thousand ships were built and left its ports a month. Most docks are currently used for maintenance. The Sol Fleet and the First, Fourth, and Fifth Fleet rely on Utopia for regular maintenance. Its location is also the main defense line between Earth and the outer solar system, and serves as a launch point between Earth and the rest of the galaxy for the military. Two starbases flank the main are on either end of the Utopia Planitia to guard the fleet yard. Two thousand ships from the Sol Fleet are actively guarding the yards at all times…_

 _Last Edited 31 May 2167 15:19 UTC_

* * *

 _ **Section 14 Communications:**_ _From: UNKNOWN – To: Martian Terraform Relay. Date: June 14, 2167 00:00 UTC; Subject: UNKNOWN;_

 _This… this is unacceptable. We served for decades to protect the Federation. We were the shadow, the shadow of Humanity! We protected Humanity, the Terran race! But just hours ago, the government of man, by the Terrans, for the Terrans, made a fatal mistake. The government has lost its way. It is filled with traitors that would allow a disease to destroy us. They diluted the Founders' vision, and forgotten why they truly founded the Federation._

 _We have always known we are not alone. It is why we made Humanity, Terra strong! Without Section 14, without our will to survive, we would still be a pitiful race on a dying world. But thanks to all of you, our brave men and women of the Terran race, we are masters of our dominion, short only to the Protheans. We have laid down the works to a great empire. Many have already laid down their lives for the future they believed in. Mother Terra… is our Rome. Charon and the mass relays are our trails to the stars. We are Earth's finest legion, ready to bring a great 'Pax Terra' to the galaxy. Ready… to save the galaxy!_

 _Will we allow savages into our ranks? Will we so willingly give up what makes us Terran? The Federation is dying. No group that stands claim to the great nation or the firm earth can save us. We are what is left to ensure the survival and prosperity of Humanity. We are the best she has to offer. We are her Prime._

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Hi everyone.

As of this update,  
it is the Three Month anniversary  
since I began telling the story about  
 _The Terran Gambit_.

Thank you to all of my readers,  
I sincerely hope you all have been enjoying.  
I aim to give you a great story  
of man's _first_ great gambit to fight the Reapers.

A special thanks to my beta reader,  
who's great help has ensured me to provide  
the highest possible quality  
of writing for you all to read.

There's a long tale ahead,  
so stay tuned and enjoy!

And always feel free to review.  
If you have any questions that the story didn't answer,  
Go ahead and PM me.  
I'd be glad to answer them.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\


	15. 14: Heartbreak and Division

**Act Two: Diplomacy**

 **Chapter Fourteen: Heartbreak and Division**

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Hey everyone

Here we are,  
Act Two of the great gambit  
Diplomacy begins.

But naturally,  
When it comes to the Terrans,  
it's never that easy.

But be it suspicion from the outside,  
or division from within,  
The Terrans will get their way.

Thanks for reading,  
Keep on following,  
And always feel free to review.

If you have any questions that the story didn't answer,  
Go ahead and PM me.  
I'd be glad to answer them.

Let's begin!

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

* * *

 **Part 1:**

 **Admiral Zaren'Vali - Martian Fleetyard - Two Weeks since First Contact  
June 15, 2167 09:00:00 UTC**

… _And so, outside these walls in the void over the planet of war, we begin Humanity's greatest project. Here will be the Crucible where we shall forge the might of our unified nation. Here, over the world where we learned of the great ancients before us, we shall begin our rise as the next great empire to spawn the galaxy._

 _No more shall man fight each other for ashes, but rise to claim the stars as one. The Martian Naval Fleet yard and Military Installation will be a symbol that by our human hands, we can bend all the universe to our might and will. That might? Firm and united. Our will? Without any doubt. As we lay down the first hulls of the right arm of Humanity, shall we all know, once and for all, that we are entering a new era. We are on the verge of an eternal golden age, a prime that shall never end. Upward and forward, under the banner of the Federation, we shall be uplifted._

\- Jeremy Bishop, CFO of Harper Finances and the Party Chairman of the Terra Firma Party, at the christening of the Martian Fleet yard, American Resiliency Day 2134.

* * *

Zaren walked out of the medbay, stretching himself out as he got comfortable in his new suit. Aside from the natural response to wearing a new suit, he was enjoying it for the most part. The suit was brand new, a quickly developed prototype made by the Terrans to be given to its new Quarian citizens. Though the Quarian enviro suits were one of the few things the Quarians made that used the best material possible, the Terrans made ones were much nicer. They had all the material a Quarian engineer could have dreamt of, and was the perfect excuse for the humans to spend tax payer money on.

The material was brand new, quite literally to the atomic level. Using what was normally more expensive polymer, it was more flexible and far greater in resisting punctures. It incorporated the latest designs the Quarians had planned but lacked in material to make. Greater redundant air filters systems, skin-limb compartment systems, biometric measuring systems and integrated first aid medical systems. The inside material lining the skin was borderline natural and smoothly hugged the skin. The more complicated back head wirings were simplified, leaving a more ascetically pleasing helmet to look at. Instead of high yield rechargeable batteries, it used a low drain micro-fission battery for lifetime powering and used nano-vacuum tubing tech for EMP resistance.

What Zaren liked most however was the improved waste disposal system. Using compact atom forgers that were far more powerful than the old mass effect filter system, it broke down waste into a chemical compound the humans called 'omni-gel'. It was far more efficient and clean, and the catheters felt virtually unnoticeable now.

He still chafed though. They were designed to have normal clothing worn over it, much to the redundancy of the idea as it made them a bit stiff to move around in. This included his new Navy uniform he had to wear now. He didn't get why he wasn't allowed to wear any of the medals he was auto-awarded. He rationed the Navy didn't care much for them, since his were given to him unceremoniously via a cardboard box filled with medals, which was standard for nearly every award expect for the Star of Terra. But he enjoyed the idea of how his rank insignia of a small hollow bar with five golden pips on his right collar made him a powerful person.

"Zaren, where are you headed to?" asked Miri, instantly appearing next to him as they both walked down a hallway. Zaren sighed, seeing that Miri managed to integrate her tactical cloak to her new suit, which looked nearly identical to her old one for the most part.

"Koris called me and told me to head to the Utopia Fleetyards over Mars." he said as they passed through an open view of Mars from Starbase 4. He turned his head back to her, "How are you feeling anyway?"

She answered, a soft pleasant tone in her voice, "The air… I hope the air of our home world is as fresh as theirs."

"Fresh? Makajima told us to specifically not breathe in the air on their home world. And that's doesn't really answer my…"

Miri then sneezed in her mask, the mucus being wiped off from inside her mask by a burst of air inside.

"There we go." He giggled as they approach the shuttle bay.

She chastised him as her suit began antibiotic injections, "Oh shut up Zaren. You sound like a Vorcha."

They walked inside as the station crew managed incoming and leaving shuttles above Mars. They walk over to a docked Quarian shuttle at the end. Since entering the Federation, much of the Quarian fleet had been in dock over Mars. To facilitate a full welcoming to the nation, a quarter of the Quarians had agreed to migrate to the human home world, with a new immigration bill passed to build new houses tailored for Quarian biology and farms to grow dextro amino acid based food. Half the Fleet and most of the population were left back on the newly named planet of New Haestrom, which had been designated as a new control hub for further expansion into the Delta Quadrant or as the Council maps call it, the Terminus systems.

But the rest had been brought here. Consisting of one of the live ships and most of the older ships, they were to be decommissioned from active service, turn either into scrap or museum ships for posterity sake. The other half of the Fleet, once initial colonization was completed, would head to the fleet yard as well to be inspected to see if they could be retrofitted with Terran technology or decommissioned as well.

As their shuttle left the bay, they saw much of the fleet, their home for all their lives, being disassembled and being turned to scrap. The Quarian admirals saw it as a waste, and a painful one to see their homes scrapped. With the human's greater ship count, keeping the old Migrant Fleet was wasteful to them. But with what the Terran Quarians seemingly lost, they knew they would gain far more in return. The Quarians were the finest engineers in the galaxy, and while the humans were young, and their seemingly advanced technology surprising lacking in key aspects, Humanity was the perfect industrious pair. As Terrans, the Quarians lost their old fleet, but they could easily build a new, better one.

"Zaren. What did they do with the _Korbin_?" asked Miri.

"Oh, I had to fight with their Joint Chiefs of Staff from taking her. They wanted to cut her up to learn more on Turian design. But apparently they got their hands on the latest Turian dreadnoughts. From some relief force trying to get to Khar'shan. So they let me have her back."

"She is an old ship. I doubt the humans would have found anything useful."

He chuckled and turned to her, "But we sure did, right?"

She paused as she adjusted their heading. Zaren turned to her and waited for a response.

"Right, Miri?"

She replied, looking away, "Yah… I guess."

They began to approach the Utopia Fleet yards on the other side of the planet, high above the surface of Mars. From their viewport, Miri and Zaren saw thousands of large skeleton structured docks, shaped like rib cages with numerous ships in them, undergoing construction at different stages. After passing one shipyard with the _Qwib-Qwib_ docked in it, Miri radioed in.

"Admiral Koris, this is Ambassador Ghirn. Are we clear to dock?"

He came through the radio from another shipyard nearby, "This is Koris. You're clear to dock in bay 2. I'll be meeting you there."

* * *

She piloted towards a large one of nearly five kilometers long, where the base structure of a new ship was being put together. As they approached, one of the shuttle bays began to open its doors, holding the atmosphere in with an energy barrier. They landed in a shuttle bay on the top area of the station.

Miri and Zaren walked out, seeing Admiral Koris and two other human officers with him. Koris walked to them, his arms opened up to welcome them.

"Ambassador Ghirn, Admiral Vali, welcome to construction station FG-19!" he said with glee.

"So what was so urgent that you wanted us to be here?" asked Zaren as they walked past him, prompting him to drop his arms in defeat for the umpteenth time.

"Allow me to explain, Fleet Admiral Vali," said the higher ranking human with a smile. He swiped his hand and combed up snow white hair. "We haven't had the pleasure of meeting yet. I am Fleet Admiral Albert Donnelly of the Sol Fleet. This is my great grandson, Lieutenant Commander Jack Donnelly."

Zaren looked at the admiral for a moment, remembering where he had heard of him. He turned and quickly recognized the younger Donnelly, "You're the human biotic that was captured on the Citadel, right?"

Jack saluted him, "Yes sir, I was the weapon gunnery officer on the _William Clark_."

"Good to see that you made it off the Citadel. We had to bomb a ward to cover our escape."

The elder Donnelly chuckled, "Well, destroying their flagship works too. I see placing you under Akachi's command was the right call."

"Interesting that a race that uses so little eezo still fields Biotics," said Miri.

Jack replied, "We still need 'eezo' like every other race in the galaxy. Since its discovery, the Federation has been stockpiling it. Only recently have we truly discovered the worth of it."

Koris added on, "At its height, their reserve levels nearly equal the Asari's. Like gathering up gold without knowing its true value."

Admiral Donnelly looked away as he grumbled, "We would have had more, but we wasted it on those damn satellites." He turned back and grinned, "But as we can see, there's plenty more in the galaxy, all waiting to be taken."

Jack nodded, "Well, massatanium is shiny, and we are a somewhat kleptomaniac race."

Miri turned to Zaren, "Zaren used to be like that. Though with pockets like ours, it's hard not to do so."

"That's how we got the _Korbin_ …" replied Zaren with pride. He then whispered under his breath, "It's also how I got you Chatika."

She quickly turned to him, before looking down on her arm, remembering that she now was wearing a Terran watch, not her combat omnitool, "Damn it Zaren, what didn't you steal?"

"Well, no need to go pickpocket for a ship," Admiral Donnelly gestured to the door, "This isn't the academy. Today, we are here to show our newest fleet admiral his Flagship."

Zaren looked to them in a bit of shock, "My Flagship?"

"Allow me to explain, please follow me."

They walked off the shuttle bay and into the corridor of metal texture walls and industrial lighting as they made their way to the control room on the other side of the station.

"You see, there were eight fleet admirals in the Terran Navy. One for each of the five fleets and three for the Sol Fleet, like me."

They turn past a corridor, walking past several station workers. As they walked down, they nearly bumped into two officers that were arguing, distracted by some info on their watches.

"Jack, tell me who they are again. At my age, it's hard to keep everything in order."

"Of course, Admiral. The First Fleet Admiral is Michael Woods, the senior fleet admiral of the main fleets. The Second is Andrew Roland, who led the fleet against the Batarians. The Third is Anne Darya, a famed explorer like President Bowman and Admiral Grissom, she's a former Sol Fleet Admiral and was Head of the Academy before returning to man the fleet. The Fourth is Helen Valenzuela, a famed aviator pilot during the Revival. She helped pioneer modern carrier deployment. And the Fifth is Steven Hackett, the youngest one. Then there is the Sol Fleet which consists of the admiral here, Jon Grissom, and Herold Muhamad."

Zaren commented on it, "I was in a meeting with your Joint Chiefs of Staff. And them?"

Admiral Donnelly answered, "Falaise and Black were former fleet admirals, Falaise through the Marines. By our tradition, the rank is a short lived position, though the current ones have been in position for some time now. The same goes for that bastard, General Williams. The Army maintains the position of Field Marshall for the commanding officer of each army during war time. At least ours is a bit more permanent. A former fleet admiral normally has seniority over current ones. Of course, at a hundred and ten, I rank highest."

"I am surprised you still remain at your age," said Miri.

"I'm supposed to have retired at ninety." Admiral Donnelly chuckled, "I cannot think of what to do in retirement. I still remember being a US captain on Earth."

"You were the one who discovered the mass relays," said the younger Donnelly.

"Sixty-six years later and the galaxy is practically ours." He turned to Zaren and laughed a bit before adding on, "Ruling the galaxy sounds nice, huh Admiral Vali?"

"Quite ambiguous for a young race."

"But it does breed results, no?"

"Now that I'm a fleet admiral by your rankings…?" asked Zaren.

"Oh yes, that. You would be assigned to a fleet of your own. Normally, this is done when a current one retires, dies, or is booted out of position. For now, we will simply let you have command of the few Quarian ships that will be retrofitted. However, special circumstances have occurred, the usual political stuff. Uh, Ambassador Ghirn. Could you please explain?"

Miri opened up her watch and read the details to him, "The Federation Congress has, as stated in Article Three of the 2134 Species Preservation Act, has declared the home world of a member race under occupation."

Zaren tried to deduce what that meant, "A home world? You mean…"

"Rannoch! When we entered the Federation, our home world was under Geth control. Because a member race's home world is occupied by an enemy force, action is to be taken to reclaim it in full force."

Admiral Donnelly added on, "When the Quarians joined, hundreds of articles of the Species Preservation Act were immediately put into effect. Most of them were written decades ago in the event one type of specific calamity was to occur to a member race. All written to 'safeguard Terran survivability'. I guess they never thought it apply to another race besides Humanity."

Miri added on, "However, when we joined, we put over half of them into effect, laws that become binding the moment certain criteria are met. They are quite extensive about it."

"It gives their government a lot of control over our lives though," said Koris, "From dietary restriction to birth regulations."

"Well, the Founders were never really concerned with individual interest. The First gives them the right to complain, the Sixth gives them the means to make the government listen. If they really cared, the FCC wouldn't be spying on you, or allowed the Revival to have happened, or invest power into some black ops group that…!" Donnelly thought for a moment at a sudden steam up, then jumped away from his line of thought, "Uh, well, fortunately for you though, it means you get your own fleet. Just as well, we began pushing our yard towards new ship construction."

Zaren asked in confusion, "You're building new ships?"

"We can't just waste a perfectly good ship yard. A new bill is making its way to double the fleet's current size. You can thank the Batarians and Citadel Council for that. Last month, they planned to cut my fleet in half."

"More ships?" asked Koris as he turned to Donnelly, "Not even the entire Asari economy could afford a fleet. The Turians depend on the Volus for theirs, and we spent centuries gathering ours. Your government can't honestly want to take an expansive, and expensive endeavor."

"If there's a will, there's a budget," Donnelly chuckled, "You're a Terran now, Admiral Koris. Why not run for an office? You won't be the only politician who holds those views for military buildup."

Zaren nodded to Koris, "Just like your father, Zaal. The Conclave could have used another man like him," Zaren turned back to Admiral Donnelly, "How many ships do they plan to build?"

"Much more," He gestured his hands in a wide motion, "If Bowman signs it, it would be enough for five new fleets and tens of millions more soldiers and Marines. Thanks to matter replicators, the cost of construction has boiled down to just labor and specialized material." He held up his hand form a box frame as he looked through it, "You shall be the Fleet Admiral of the newly minted Sixth Fleet."

"What if we go to war with the Council?" asked Miri.

Admiral Donnelly scratched his head, "Then we're rebuilding the first five…"

* * *

They arrived at the design room where several private contractors from Quantum Core Industry and Naval designers were discussing over the construction of a new ship. In the center of the room was a holotable with a fluctuating hologram diagram. The officer, with a southeast-Asian make, stood next to it as he kept hitting it, trying to get it to work. They walked up to him as they continued.

"They build thousands of ships, yet can't build a damn holo matrix…"

They walked over to the officer as he continued his percussion maintenance.

"I'm sure hitting that computer won't fix it," said Koris.

He held his finger up as he brushed his light mustache, "Trust me, I know what I'm doing. Now then… Three hundred newtons of force… here!" The officer proceeded to kick the table at a section where several computer components were. The table disengaged, then restarted as it turned on and fully emitted its holo image. He turned to Koris and smiled, "The true marvel of Terran ingenuity. If we keep hitting it, it'll work eventually. I should know, I am a computer myself."

The elder Donnelly walked up to him. "Vali, Ghirn, Koris. This is Admiral Ramos. He is one of our oldest, and the highest ranking syntha in the military."

He nodded to each of them, "Admirals, Ambassador, Jack."

Jack sighed, "Admiral."

"Their AIs are truly organic like," said Koris, "They hold such a high rank."

"I overheard something of you running for office? An AI friend of mine is a congressman. You should meet him sometime. Lively fellow. I think you'd like him."

He gestured them to the holoimage and gave it to Donnelly as he wandered off to other matters.

"Admiral Vali, here is your new ship."

He walked up to the console and looked at the holo-diagram. It was a new Flagship design, labeled as the _Exodus_ Class, measuring at 3.1 km long. Though it was smaller than current models, it was outfitted with far more advanced technology, the image filled with notes of last minute changes reflecting newly discovered data from the war and contact. She was equipped with industrial replicators to allow her to remain independent of supply chains. She had two flight decks on board for self-fighter support, versus the one on the _Peewee_ and _Average_ Class Flagship. Her tri-mag rail guns were also missing. Instead the duel-magnetic guns of the battle cruiser were equipped, but a third central barrel still existed, being labeled on the holo as an 'Anti-matter Dispersal Cannon'. There was a small floating side note next to it of replacing them as well with mass accelerators from Harper Finances' Solarian Arms. Finally, her engines were also retro fitted, using a newer antimatter reactor that used double the massatanium the current one used, in order to increase energy efficiency and allow a larger hold of anti-deuterium storage.

Zaren looked more closely at the schematics. The ship was to have double the crew complement, at six thousand personnel and was outfitted with rather extensive scientific labs for an upper tier ship. Her computer core was far larger than it ever needed to be, even for a Terran AI equipped ship. But the most striking thing of all for Zaren was the name. It was commissioned as the FSS _Sands of Rannoch_ , FGCC-1895.

"The sands of Rannoch… The sands of the great walled garden, the sands of the home world…" He stared at the ship, contemplating.

"In ten years, you'll be on your way back home," replied Jack.

Ramos walked for as he managed the work in the room, "Nice, robot war. That sounds fun." He whispered to Koris, "In my forty years alive and activated, it gets tiresome, you know? Killing meat bags all the time. The Revival was fun though."

"The home world… it's so close."

* * *

 **Part 2:**

 **Colonel Jack Harper - Martian Fleetyard  
June 15, 2167 9:00:00 UTC**

"Williams?"

As his shuttle soared pass the shipyards of Utopia, Harper continued to get his comm link to Earth open. He peeled off the fake youth mask he was wearing, revealing his true self. Maybe if he had picked a more sensible job like a politician or businessman like those in his family, Harper would still have the young, impressive looks he once had before the academy. Still, beneath the plastic mask was a handsome man that bored the perfect ratio of past youth and present experience. His stylish hair the same throughout. He checked his hypercomm link, unable to figure out why he couldn't get through.

"Hmm. Computer, access Military Personnel Records. Authorization: Harper-Echo-Romeo-One-Charlie-Unity-Lima-Echo-Sierra-Four."

"Connecting." The computer began to access the records, connecting to Starbase 4. A short static came through before it spoke again. "Approved. Full clearance granted. Begin inquiry."

"Begin Galactic Positioning System. Find me Army General Edward Williams." As it searched, he began his approach to Shipyard FG-19. He looked out of his cockpit and at the northern pole of Mars, concerned.

"Found: General Williams was biometrical scanned and logged to be on Fort Bao, Western Plains, Shanxi, Taiyuan System. Time 07:45 June 15, 2167 UTC."

He rubbed his forehead in frustration, "He returned that quickly? But I warned him of this… Open hypercomms to Earth. Patch me to Siberia Station, B7 Deployment..."

* * *

"Captain, Colonel Harper's shuttle has docked in shuttle bay 2."

"Thank you. I'll be heading there now," said Captain Hislop.

He left the control room for FG-19 and walk down the hallway to the elevator. He rode down to the lower deck. He wondered why Harper was meeting him. He contacted him on a suspiciously secure line only the night before saying he was heading over to the Utopia Fleet yards. It has been years since he saw him. Last he heard, he was a candidate for the Army Special Forces.

Hislop still remembered him from the academy, when the Navy and Army cadets trained together during the Revival. Harper was of nationalist origins, having been born to a founder family with high positions in the early government and he took pride in his status. At one point, he was set to inherit the family business, one of the major conglomerates on Earth, but found a calling in the military. He was a skilled, charismatic, and talented man. He believed in the ideals of the Federation, but was an 'ends justify the means' person. That was his characteristic during the academy, a refined man but ruthless when needed. His own reputation was known in military circles. Loyal though, he had been the friend he had been able to count on more than once.

As for Hislop, he came from more humble roots, a third generation colonist at the heart of Terran space. He was a veteran of the Death world campaigns during the fifties. In the great outskirts, he led several colonial expeditions, fighting from hostile wildlife to dangerous storms. He left the frontier, now in a logistics roll, back at the heart of Terran space. But he didn't know was that his old friend was going to end up pulling him back out.

Hislop arrived at the bay, walking directly in as Harper waited near the shuttle, dressed in his formal uniform of blue and olive green, the colors of the Terran Army. As Hislop walked in, he noticed Harper was on his comm device, two fingers on his ear as he argued.

"If someone else dies, it's on you Petrovsky!"

Harper dropped his arms and rested back against the hull of the shuttle, frustrated. He looked back up and around, seeing Hislop. He waved his hands up and yelled over to him, laughing as they walked up and hugged one another before heading back to the elevator.

"Ben, it's great to see you again," said Harper as they waited for their elevator to rush back up to them.

Ben smiled and nodded, "Same here Jack. So, what's going on? You seemed really anxious on the vid call yesterday." The elevator arrived and they stepped on.

"The past few days, have… been eventful. The Navy isn't the only one with a lot going on."

"I haven't seen this amount of traffic over Mars since the christening of the _Thunder Child_."

Harper looked around, checking for anyone near them. He then turned on his watch and activated a screening device, to check for recording devices. He then took out a few sticky notes, placing one over the main security camera and one over the 'hidden' FCC camera clearly marked 'FCC Guardian Angel Camera'. He asked Hislop as he kept checking the holo screen from his watch.

"What's your opinion on those aliens joining the Federation?"

"I still can't believe we made Contact two weeks ago. Hell, we fought our first intergalactic war and won. In a single week! And now the Federation has three races. Actually, Admiral Koris is here waiting for the arrival of Ambassador Ghirn and Admiral Vali to come on board to view his new ship."

Harper looked to him, "The Quarian admirals are here in the fleet yards? That's not good."

"What's wrong?"

He grabbed the holoscreen over his watch and held it like a tablet as he kept searching data for that.

"Of course. I'm always the last person to know these things".

The elevator stopped and they got off, walking through the hallway.

"The Firmist, Ben."

"Terra Firma? I heard the entire party is on the verge of collapse. And they are about to take the Nationalist with them. Goyle just resigned as speaker, along with Udina in the senate. Reminds me of how it was just after the Revival."

Harper took a deep breath and thought quickly of what he was going to say to Hislop. "Their collapse goes deeper than political lines. It is going to divide the entire nation. Firmist radicals have taken control of the Martian Defense Relay."

Ben looked at him, surprised and confused, "What? What the hell are you talking about."

Harper looked up, hearing something at the end of the corridor. "Wait." He adjusted his watch, drawing their attention to a blank screen as the Quarian admirals and Donnellys walked pass them. They walked to a nearby room and entered.

"Damn it, Jack. What's going on? Why the hell do you think rebel Firmist hijacked the defense relay?"

"I know they did. Ben… you still trust me, right?"

"Shit Jack. I fought with the Army in the frontier and I still put more faith in you."

He grabbed his shoulders and stared him down, "Ben… I'm a member of Section 14."

Hislop looked at him, staring into his eyes before cracking a smile. He laughed at Harper before speaking out, "Section 14? That's some made up black ops group from those spy movies. Next you'll tell me how your name came directly from some severely misinterpreted section of the constitution!"

Harper opened his watch displaying the defense relay and the nearby Northern Terra form Relay, showing the satellite guns and surface batteries aimed at the Utopia Fleet Yards and Starbase 4 and 8. It switched to security footage of personnel moving supplies and weaponry on the surface, using the terra form relay as a base of operation, readying for battle.

Hislop eyes widen up, realizing what Harper was saying, "Those guns… Jack, they can destroy the entire Utopia fleet yard over Mars. There's over a hundred thousand personnel in orbit…"

"The heels of the entire Sixth fleet are being laid here, along parts of Hackett's rescue flotilla and Roland's fleet are here for repair. Over four thousand ships…"

"Dear lord, if they destroy the yards and broadcast it to the galaxy, the Federation will descend into civil war. That alien Council could wipe us out!"

"Now you see. We need to stop them. They plan to broadcast their demands and threats across the Federation. That alone will cause panic across a quarter of the galaxy."

Hislop nodded to him, "Ok Jack. I'm game. What do we do?"

"We need to first block their broadcast. Keeping it local and cutting external feeds will make it hard for them to know if it got through. Next we need to destroy the arrays on the northern continent on Mars. That's where they are based. Then, our hackers can disable the remaining defense system and put them back in our control."

"Can't an AI do that?"

"They kept their signals on a tight narrowband frequency. A syntha won't have enough bandwidth to be able to so much as digitally peek into their system, let alone hack into them."

"Ok then…" He paused for a moment, then turned to Harper, "But why are you telling me this? The fleet admirals are just across the hall."

"We have been through hell together since the academy. And this is bigger than it even seems now."

"Why?"

"Section 14 has been compromised. No terrorist group can capture such a key facility without being noticed by now. I fear whoever is doing this is from within."

"You're telling me rouge agents for a 'secret' organization whose presence is barley known by anyone has taken over a critical weapon junction? This can't end well if some black ops team doesn't have it together."

"We can worry about that another time. Now we need to stop our rouges before things get worse. I trust you, Ben. Can I count on you?"

Hislop raised his hand and they locked hands in an arm wrestle hand shake as he patted Harper's shoulder with assurance. "You can."

Harper chuckled, "Great. Besides, I'm Army and Section 14. Donnelly will never believe me."

An indicator flashed on Harper's watch. He looked through, his eyes wide open.

"We need to get to the control room; they're attempting to broadcast right now!"

* * *

"Ten years. Ten years Miri and we'll have the home world. Can't you believe it!"

"Yes Zaren. This is truly great news."

They looked at the ship design. Zaren thought to himself, about the ship and all that has happened. He turned back to Miri, who was holding her hands as she looked at the holo image in her own quiet awe.

He whispered to himself. "I can take her home. As I promised her." He looked back at the ship. "A ship today… a house tomorrow."

"Admiral," said Donnelly, "here is your mission dossier for your new fleet. The Chiefs of Staff didn't waste their time putting you to use."

Donnelly turned on his watch and transferred a file to Zaren's new smart watch. He was still getting used to his new device. Zaren opened it up and began to look through the documents, opening up a holo map. In it was a detailed layout of the galaxy, with borders showing the Council, the Federation which had consumed most of the Traverse, the remaining unclaimed Traverse, and the Terminus Systems. It then showed a plot course, staring from New Haestrom and leading to a system only a jump away from Omega and one leading to the famed planet of Virmire. It then began to flicker, as a notification bar alerted to the message incoming.

"Commander Donnelly, what's going on with this device?"

"Let me see," Jack walked over and attempted to adjust the settings, to no avail.

The nearby screens began to flicker as well, as everyone is the room quickly noticed as well.

Admiral Donnelly turned to Ramos and the other workers. "What the hell going on?"

He walked back to the main table, the holo image fluctuating as he interfaced with the computer, "Our communication systems are being overwhelmed on all frequencies. Whoever is doing it is trying to break through our security grid… Damn it, I can't trace it." In a moment, his hologram began to flicker as well, "And that's not good as well."

The screen stabilized, including their watches, which all opened up to a video. They all displayed a dark blue backdrop. On the bottom of the screen was a symbol of the old United Earth with the words 'Terra Prime'. A man walked into view, an old man, balding, but postured with a sense of authority. He began to speak.

" _In the past two weeks, Humanity has come to know that we are not alone. But in a foolish move by our government, the Terran Federation has willingly allowed two alien races to join us._

 _We are called the Terran Federation because we, Humanity, are Terran and no one else is. We should we accept a race of slavers and beggars to join our superior nation? They have nothing to offer for us. Their ideals and weaknesses will dilute our higher cause and weaken us as a whole._

 _My fellow humans, the true Terrans, the Terran race. We cannot allow such a disease to infect our superior race. We all know what Humanity alone could do. Our supposed leaders want peace. They are afraid. We are the new might of the galaxy. Join Terra Prime and we can all being Humanity to the fore front of dominance in the galaxy._

 _Right now we have control of the Martian Defense Grid. We are giving a 24-hour warning for all non-humans to evacuate the Sol system. If our deadline is not met, we will use the weaponry at our disposal to obliterate the Quarian Fleet in dock over Mars. Than we shall obliterate the Utopia Fleet yard in retaliation for the government's treachery to man. We will rid of the alien plague, no matter the cost. We shall preserve the Terran idea, the Terran Dream. Terra Prime Forever!"_

Everyone in the control room remained silent. Many were utterly shocked by the message that was broadcasted to them. But Donnelly, Ramos, and Vali were focused on what the words said.

Donnelly spoke, "Fredrickson? What the hell is the leader of the Firmist doing?"

Before they thought of what to do next, Harper and Hislop barged through the door, both typing on the holo screens from their watches as they rushed to a console.

Harper turned to Hislop, asking for the readout on the communication relays. He checked and then gave a thumbs up to him.

Donnelly took notice and instantly recognizing Harper. "Damn it, it's Williams' lackey. Harper, what the hell are you doing here. Is Section 14 behind… this?"

"We are trying to stop Terra Prime, Admiral. We just blocked the main signal from leaving the Martian Airway. But their threat is all too real. We need to stop them from destroying the fleet."

"This man is right," said Zaren as he walked up to them, "There must be over a hundred thousand Quarians on Starbase 4 awaiting shuttles to the rest of the federation. If we lose them, we'll lose a large portion of our race."

"And if they destroy the fleet yard, it'll cripple more than half the Navy!" said Ramos as he rushed over from the console with another worker to survey the situation.

"Captain Hislop, how are you involved with Harper?" asked Donnelly.

"Harper is a close friend, but he just told me what was happening only minutes ago."

"It's important we stop them from destroying the orbital installations," said Harper.

"Ok Harper, as much as I don't want to. What's the sit rep?" asked the Admiral as he rubbed his forehead from the stress.

"Those Terra Prime operatives have taken control of the Terraform Relay Grid." He took control of the holo table and opened a hologram of Mars. "Here, northern hemisphere along the border between the Utopia and Arcadia Plains."

Jack pointed at the blips above the planet, representing fully equipped ships in orbit, "It'll take a few hours to charge the entire array network. We can try to send Sol ships in and drop tungsten on the bastards!"

Ramos ran back to them. "Don't! It not that simple, unfortunately. That station is using massatainium to force asteroids from the belt to crash into the ice cap to terraform the planet. A prototype gravitation localization magnifier… Tractor beam, that's it. Thousands of asteroids are already on course for Mars. But if we destroy it, they'll lose their intended trajectory and crash anywhere on the planet. The dome cities and the Prothean ruins will be in harm's way."

"Can we shoot them down instead?" asked Koris.

"Nope. Even we don't have enough ships to stop all of them in time if they scatter about. Besides, a good chunk will head straight into the fleet yard as well.

"Now what?" asked Zaren as he crossed his arms, "Simply bombarding them was my specialty."

"We need to get a team in that array and disable their control," said Harper.

"How?" asked Donnelly, "If they see a ship moving out of place, they'll destroy it with the satellites or planet batteries that are already online."

"We need to find a way to infiltrate them," replied Miri, trying look back to her old infiltration missions for a plan. Zaren turned to her and thought of one.

"Korlus!" He turned and grabbed her by each arm, "Miri, remember how we got planet side at Korlus?"

She thought for a moment to remember, "You're right Zaren, we used a comet to disguise our shuttle to evade the planet's defense LADAR. Donnelly, is one of those asteroids approaching?"

Jack looked through the computer's data base for the schedule for the terraforming. "We're in luck. A meteor labeled X-31 is en route to collide in one hour, it's currently passing by a flotilla of the Sol Fleet."

Harper nodded to them, "That's it then. We'll have to get take a shuttle to the flotilla and follow the asteroids trail towards the planet. We'll then land near the array. Admiral, can you alert the flotilla to ready a mod shuttle?"

"They should have one in stock. I'll contact them now."

"Who's on the team than?" asked Jack.

"Ben, Admiral Koris, Admiral Ramos. I need you to stay here and keep any signal from leaving Mars. If this gets to the media on Earth, it'll cause a panic."

Hislop nodded to him, "Yah Jack, you can count on us."

"Commander Donnelly, you're with me. We'll get some Marines on the station to join us."

"Yes, sir."

Admiral Donnelly grunted, "First Williams, now Harper... Take a squad from the _Grand Canyon_. I'll have an N7 detail prepared as backup."

"Wait, that won't be necessary," answered Miri.

Zaren continued, "We'll be joining you two on this, we have experience piloting under severe pressure and circumstances."

"You're sure?" asked Harper, "This is going to be a very combat intensive operation. And one that's being done on the fly."

"Don't count us out for being too old," said Miri, confidence in her tone, "We've pulled the same thing off with half the Citadel Fleet trying to capture us. We even managed to steal a cruiser in the whole process."

"Now wait, Admiral, Ambassador. These are heavily armed rebels. Its outright dangerous!" said Admiral Donnelly.

"They are threatening my race… our people! I may be old, but I won't stand down," replied Zaren.

Donnelly lifted his hands up in defeat, "I won't argue there. Go."

* * *

 **Part 3:**

 **Above Mars  
June 15, 2167 10:15:00 UTC**

The asteroid rushed by at around a hundred thousand kilometers an hour, heading towards the north polar ice cap on Mars. In the ice trail behind it was a small Federation shuttle, with extra hull armor welded to it. The shuttle itself lagged behind in its trail, disguising itself among the ice debris. Chunks of ice and rock bounced off the shielding, some passing through and got lodged into the armor. Inside, Harper, Donnelly, Miri, and Zaren along with two N7 Marines were being rocked about as the shuttle drifted with debris, in an attempt to blend in with the asteroid itself.

"I thought you did this before!" said Harper, standing next to Zaren in the pilot seat, holding on to a rail to stay steady as he kept his blue beret secured to his head.

"Well, uh… the last time we did this, we crashed into a Council ship, which in turn crashed into a pirate ship, which then hit the surface."

"That doesn't inspire a lot of confidence," said Donnelly, holding his head to avoid getting nauseous.

"The general practice of the Navy doesn't also," replied Harper.

Zaren glossed the shuttle slowly to the right, dodging a large chunk of ice as it split off, all while staying within the tail, "My first impression of you is that your race does the same thing because it's fun. We do it because we'll die if we don't."

"Well, I have to give you that. Reminds me of when these pranksters in the academy crashed a series of asteroid into Jupiter. The research station was pissed because they nearly destroyed the Great Red Spot."

"Your young have too much time on their hands."

"That's the Navy for yah," said Harper. "Glad Ben never gave into their idiocy."

The shuttle rocked around more as the hull heated up. Miri in the copilot seat turned to the others, "We're approaching the edge of the atmosphere, brace for entry."

The meteor began to enter the atmosphere of Mars. Having been terraform in the past century, the atmosphere of the red planet had increased significantly, nearing .8 ATM. The meteorite began to burn furiously as the ice debris quickly burned away. The shuttle got close to the back end of the burning rock, trying to avoid detection. Inside the shuttle, the heat shields began to strain on entry, allowing it to heat up the inside of the shuttle. The Marines, fitted with advance power armor with fusion power cores and enviro-stabilizers, were sitting comfortable in their armor, cooled. But Harper and Donnelly were dressed in basic combat vests and were sweating immensely, with Donnelly trying to use his kinetics to blow air into his face, before stopping when he realized he was just blowing hot air at himself.

Zaren and Miri were also heating up; in spite of having brand new suits designed by both human and Quarian engineers, it quickly became apparent that it lacked a decent A/C system. Having lost much of their heat resistance since leaving their desert home world, they were also sweating just as badly. Their filters were doing everything to pump fresh air into their helmets.

Finally, the meteorite entered the main level of the atmosphere, far smaller than before. Zaren steered the ship away as the meteorite crashed into the ice cap. The resulting blast threw heated dry ice into the atmosphere, further increasing its thickness while also blocking effective LADAR scans, hiding the shuttle as it landed near the array compound. They landed behind a ridge, as they diverted power back to the environment systems, cooling the shuttle.

* * *

Harper walked into the main bay, "Well then. Let's get going. Everyone do a last minute check."

They got up, loading up their gear and double checking their own weaponry and each other's. The two N7 Marines had their power armor, loaded with fusion batteries, lead blocks, explosives and their signature M7 Lancer rifles. Donnelly was equipped with a tactical combat vest, standard issue for on-ship combat, loaded with the batteries, a few blocks, and armed with a M95 Viper Mag-Rail Sniper rifle and a side M5 Phalanx. Finally, he donned an air breather to breath in the Martian air.

Harper was equipped with a similar load, a combat vest over the dress shirt of his uniform, but was armed with a Section 14 made M25 Hornet burst fire submachine gun along with the M5. On top of his head was the famed blue beret of the Army B7s. As a member, he was required to wear it into battle.

Zaren and Miri walked over to grab their gear. "Remember this, Miri?"

She teased him, "You always wanted to be like Faunz."

Zaren's consisted of his old friend's Reeger carbine using Geth experimental thermal clip to allow quick heat dispersal by switching out heat sinks in the weapon. Miri's load consisted of her M6 Carnifax, modded with a suppressor.

"I haven't seen you use that pistol for decades," said Zaren when he saw her reload a new block into it.

"You mean when we fought the Council, the Geth, Or Tredis's men? I wonder what happened to that bosh'tet Turian that I stole this from?"

Zaren chuckled as he reminisced, "I heard he died in that stupid war they had… oh well, childhood memories."

Donnelly remarked, "That's some childhood you Quarians have."

They geared up and opened the shuttle doors, stepping out onto the Martian surface. In spite of the thicker atmosphere, the image of the red planet was just the same as when man sent the first rover to the planet. Bleak brown skies stretching on and on with red rust iron covering the ground all the way to the horizon. It was a bit of wonder for the humans why there was even a Prothean outpost on the planet. They began to walk to the array, staying low in single file as the dust storm from the meteor covered their approach.

"You know, around the same time the Geth took your home world, the first true alien invasion story was written on Earth," said Donnelly.

"Really, you actually thought of the idea of aliens invading your planet that early in your development?" asked Miri.

"We didn't even have the airplane or understood the atom, but we wrote a book of aliens from Mars invading our planet. In a way, much of the technology the author made up, heat rays, flying machines, space travel, we later went on to invent for ourselves, and reenact on another alien world. Actually, Admiral Hackett's ship's name came from the story."

"So did Humanity stop these 'Martians' with another ship called ' _Thunder Child'_?" asked Zaren.

"Well, no. The one in the story was destroyed to signify man's futile attempt to stop them."

"I'm still surprised ramming worked. We still won though," said Harper, "Tell them how, Donnelly."

"Oh they all died suddenly because they…." He paused, not wanting to finish that statement.

"They what, tell us," asked Miri, interested by the story.

"Yes, Donnelly. Tell them," said Harper.

"They… got infected by our bacteria and all died."

"Well, Humanity already knew how to stop the Quarians if we invaded them right after losing our home world," said Zaren, amused by the ending.

"Haha, yah… yah," responded Donnelly, clearly uncomfortable over having brought that up.

"Well, like all real problems, we can't expect luck on our side. We'll have to make our own," said Harper as they approached the perimeter.

They continued on, rounding the ridge and approaching an airlock, where a single guard stood there at the bottom of the stairs, bored from his duty.

"Miri, you're up," whispered Zaren as he gestured to her.

"Got it," she walked up as her tactical cloak activated. Along with the dust storm raging from the meteorite impact, she quickly blended into the scenery. The guard stood there, unaware as she grabbed on to the stair's railing and climbed on, positioning herself behind the guard.

She walked up behind him, her gun with a disrupter mod activated and pointed at the back of his head.

Miri whispered to him, "Hey, bosh'tet…"

He turned around, his face mask now directly at the business end of her silencer. She fired a round, the electric charged sand grain round left her barrel as quietly as she got there. The round burst through the guard's energy shield and penetrated his face mask. He dropped dead, blood pooling up inside his helmet.

"He's dead!" said Zaren with slight glee as they walked towards the stairs.

They opened the airlock and got in. The outer door sealed itself as air was pump into the chamber.

Harper removed his breather and prepped his weapon, "Ok then. Once we're in, Admiral Vali, me and Corporal Nelson will head over to secure Fredrickson. Ambassador Ghirn, you should be able to disable their control of the Defense systems. Donnelly, Nitoro, get her to the computer room safely."

"Yes, sir."

The room fully pressurized, and the inner hatch opened up. As they ran out, the alarm began to play as red lights flashed across the hallway.

"They know we're here. Quick, disable those guns."

They split up, Harper's group heading straight on while Miri's team headed left.

* * *

 **Part 4:**

 **Ambassador Miri'Ghirn - Terraform Relay  
June 15, 2167 11:00:00 UTC**

Miri and her team charged down the hall as they gunned down the low skilled guards and militia men. Donnelly raised a barrier with one hand while firing with his pistol, the others staying close behind. They reached a server room, where they could open up their control clearance at the central computer.

"You two. Cover me while I hack this."

Donnelly and Niroto covered the door, shooting down the ends of the hallway as more Terra Prime guards rushed in.

"How many guys do they have?" said Donnelly, as more kept coming, in spite of the amount they had already killed.

Harper answered over the radio, "They have more support than you think. After Bishop left the party, he took most of the moderates with him, polarizing the entire political landscape. They have been more on the radical side since. I wouldn't be surprised if some of these are most likely right wing Nationalists."

"How are you holding up, sir?" asked Nitroto.

"Fredrickson had the rogue Section 14 agents guarding him. How about you."

Donnelly replied as he fired from his rifle, blowing back one militiaman, "Like fish in a barrel, but the fish can shoot back."

"What's a 'fish in a barrel'?" asked Zaren.

"Later, there's an opening ahead," said Harper as the radio cut.

Miri ran up to them, "The server is hacked, we now have clearance at the main computer… they're still there?"

"There are a lot of them."

"Erect a barrier; I rigged the server to explode."

"Oh great..."

Donnelly rushed from cover into the hall, raising both his hands and using his kinetics to create a full kinetic barrier. Miri and Niroto got in it and they advanced to the computer room. The server behind them then exploded, taking some of the advancing guards behind them with it. Niroto reloaded his rifle with a new battery, spraying down their back side to keep the guards from rushing in. Miri took front and took her shots with her Carnifax, gunning the guards down one at a time as they advanced with Donnelly's barrier.

"There's the computer room," said Miri, pointing over as she shot another guard.

She took down the last guards at the end of the hallway and rushed to the main room. Donnelly and Niroto held them off as Miri hack into console to let them in.

"Ah, those damn bosh'tets!" screamed Zaren over the radio.

Miri quickly responded, "What's going on?"

"They got a shot through my shields…" There was a pause, momentary heavy breathing, "It just skidded through and ripped a hole through my suits. I'm activating my suit compartments."

"Zaren!"

"What Miri? What?"

"…Stay safe."

"You too Miri. You too."

The radio cut out as the doors opened. They rushed in and sealed it behind them. They rushed to the main console in the room. Donnelly threw a kinetic shockwave, knocking out the scientist at the station. They then rushed to the console, covering Miri as she hacked into the main systems. She quickly used her watch, which she had taken the time back on the starbase to mod to appear similar to her old omnitool to finish the hack.

"Damn quantum encryption. I could have hacked a whole Geth squad by now."

Donnelly looked back as he reinforced the door with his barrier, "You can practice on Ramos later. Now hurry!"

"Almost there… Keelah! Done, and not a moment too soon."

Niroto walked over to the console. "No kidding, they were about to fire upon the Sol Fleet ships that were about to land."

"This is Harper; do we have the defense grid offline?"

"Yes, sir," answered Donnelly.

"Good, we have Fredrickson cornered."

* * *

 **30 minutes earlier…  
** **Admiral Zaren'Vali and Colonel Jack Harper**

"Engaging target!" yelled Harper as they took cover in a large warehouse.

"Sniper on the balcony, left side," said Nelson.

Harper looked, raising his pistol to get an accurate shot of the sniper. He fired two rounds. The first shot was on the sniper's shoulder, forcing him out of cover for the other round to hit him in the head.

"Haha, good to know you humans can fire straight," said Zaren. An agent ran up close to his cover, but Zaren raised his carbine and fired, scorching him in plasma flame.

"That's some carbine you Quarians have," said Harper, raising his submachine gun and firing more rounds at agents ahead of them.

"It's more like a flamethrower," said Nelson.

Zaren chuckled, "Electro-plasma flame from the famous Reeger armory. The Reeger clan had been the top weapons manufacturer for the Quarians since before the Geth rebellion." He took another blast at a second agent trying to get close. He got doused in flames, causing him to panic and wander into Nelson's crossfire, shredding him up.

They advanced up, approaching the half way point through the warehouse. They shot several of the support beams of the balcony above to avoid being flanked, forcing the agents above to face them from ahead. Their radios turned up.

"How many guys do they have?" screamed Donnelly through the radio, as the sound of him taking another shot with his rifle rang through the comm.

Harper answered over, continuing to fire into the enemy, "They have more support than you think. After Bishop left the party, he took most of the moderates with him, polarizing the entire political landscape. They have been more on the radical side since. I wouldn't be surprised if some of these are most likely right wing Nationalists."

"Sir, how are you holding up?" asked Niroto over the comm.

"Fredrickson had the rogue Section 14 agents guarding him. How about you."

Donnelly replied, "Like fish in a barrel, but the fish can shoot back."

"What's a fish in a barrel?" asked Zaren as he scorched another agent, keeping the others back.

"Later, there's an opening ahead," said Harper. He vaulted over cover and charged at an opening in the enemy's position. One agent took out a knife and tried to attack, but Harper effortlessly dodged before taking out his own and stabbed him in the neck. He then took aim with his machine gun and sprayed onto two more agents taking cover. He killed the last of them, sweeping up before heading down the corridor at the end of the warehouse.

They advanced onward, sweeping minimal resistance as they reached Fredrickson's office on the other side. They heard the explosion from across the facility, though they were far enough that the shock wave didn't reach them. The door to Fredrickson's office opened as they approached, with more agents pouring out. They took cover behind door frames in the rooms approaching their target.

Zaren looked over and tried to fire, but one of the agents got close and shot at him, puncturing his suit before Zaren scorched him with his carbine.

"Ah, those damn bosh'tets!" screamed Zaren, stumbling back into the room he was in.

"What's going on?" Exclaim Miri over the radio, worrying for Zaren.

"They got a shot through my shields." He paused to look as he clenched his wound. He lifted his hand, the glove covered in blood. He stared at his soaked hand, calm, almost glad of the fact it was only his own and not from someone else. "It just skidded through and ripped a hole through my suits. I'm activating my suit compartments."

"Zaren!"

He yelled out and replied as he grabbed on to his wound, "What Miri? What?"

"… Stay safe," she said, as an enemy round bounced off Donnelly's barrier, creating a warping noise around her.

"You too Miri. You too."

Nelson rushed towards him. "Sir, stay still as I apply medigel."

"Medigel?"

Harper rushed into the room.

"A recent invention by Section 14. Officially we had it invented by scientist from the Sirta foundation on Earth. We recently tailored it with chemical redundancy design, allowing levo and dextro based biology."

Nelson applied the gel on Zaren's suit.

"Just 'skidded through you'?" asked Harper as he covered the door.

"I can't have her worrying over everything, she could die of shock. She is older than me."

"Could have fooled me, Admiral. Though in our line of work, aging well is short of a miracle. Look at Williams." Harper took another shot at a guard. "Nelson, hand me a grenade."

He took one from his suit and tossed one to him. Harper cycled through the quick setting for a high yield concussion explosion. Zaren slowly pulled himself back onto his feet, gripping his carbine.

"Ready?" asked Harper.

"Do it," answered Zaren.

Harper tossed the grenade, bouncing off the wall to the right and landing in front of the door, behind everyone's back. It exploded, debilitating everyone. They then rush out of the side room, firing at the wounded agents, quickly wiping them off.

They gathered in front of the door on each side. Harper quickly used his watch to wave the door open. They ran through and gunned down Fredrickson's last guards, and surrounded him.

Harper reached for his radio, "This is Harper, do we have the defense grid offline?"

"Yes sir," answered Donnelly.

"Good, we have Fredrickson cornered."

* * *

 **Part 5:**

 **Terraform Relay Command Room  
June 15, 2167 11:30:00 UTC**

"Harper, how good of you to make it. You know you didn't have to kill them. I doubt Section 14 can take that much loss."

Harper looked at him, confused. Fredrickson rolled his seat around and nodded to him, calm. Harper took aim at him, "How do you know me… and Section 14?"

He smiled and chuckled, "Tsk, tsk. Section 14 is a big shadow. I'm surprised even you don't know everyone. Come to think of it, I should have pegged you back in London. Reminded me of when you used to campaign with your father."

"Damn it, Fredrickson. What are you doing with the Martian Defense Relay? Destroying the Fleet yard could unravel the entire Navy!"

"What am I doing? I'm trying to save humanity."

"By doing what? Threatening to destroy the heart of our military? And for what? For this pro-human group? To support the 'Terran race', like Averil?"

He chuckled, "Is that what you think this is all about? To fight against these aliens like this rat right here?"

"Screw you, you fat bald bosh'tet!"

Fredrickson shook his head, laughing, "Isn't that amusing. No Harper, I care not for the aliens. It was what Williams did to set the last weeks in motion that is unacceptable."

"What do you mean? What did Williams do?"

"Think about it. All that had happened. First Contact on Unification Day? Three separate contacts on the same day?" He slammed his hands on the desk, "Don't you understand? Williams orchestrated it all!"

Harper lowered his weapon in confusion, before raising it back up. "You honestly think Williams and Section 14 can do all that? To coordinate three separate contacts with races we barely knew anything about?"

Fredrickson looked at him and shook his head, "How naive. Section 14 has strayed from its purpose. We were the shadow. A guardian. Humanity was to progress on its own standing, and we would protect it, guide it. But we lost our way. Men like Bletchley thought he could make us strong; Instead, we bled on our own home world. Now Williams thinks contact will make us stronger, ready, for that ancient threat from beyond."

"It would renew humanity," said Harper, "What we can learn, what we now have at our possession. Horizons expanded."

He stood up, "Williams thought he can play with our future! We cannot handle what is out there. And you will soon come to learn, Harper, is that those out there, like the Citadel Council, are not ready for us, let alone our true enemy. Williams thinks opening up all the galaxy will benefit us, but he only assured war. None of us are ready…"

"This is insane Fredrickson," said Harper, "You think dividing humanity will make it better?"

"Look at those you have slaughtered to get here. We are divided. There are many not ready to accept this new nation. There are many not ready to accept the old one. We cannot survive if we are divided even now, after contact, after the Revival. What I done was make it ever clear."

"Then we will purge them!" Harper walked up right in front of his desk, his pistol aimed at him. "We will be united, as Terrans! You may have slipped passed Williams, but I will end it here!"

"How little you know… Williams could have stopped me days ago. Again, he thought he can use us as a tool to advance his agenda. But he has only assured our own destruction. But you tell me Harper. Will it be by our own hands, or by someone else?"

"You only have yourself to blame."

"We are all to blame. We could be the ones to save all the galaxy. Or be the ones to destroy it."

He slid his hand on the desk and reached for a command screen. Harper took notice and fired at the desk, but was too late. With a quick press, one of the surface rail guns just outside began to move into position.

On the radio, Miri yelled out, "We lost control! One of the guns is charging to full power!"

Harper looked back at Fredrickson and took aim at his head, "One gun won't be able to destroy anything."

Fredrickson smiled, "But one shot can be heard across the galaxy. If we are to stop the Reapers, we must have unity. Williams has his side. And we shall have ours. My job is just to rally them. The victor will be the one who can save us from the destroyer of the Protheans."

"You're a traitor!"

"I'm a martyr. A guardian of Terra, of Sol... of the Charon Relay."

"So you might as well be a dead one, you damn bosh'tet!"

Zaren rushed over and raised his carbine to fire. But before he could level out, Harper quickly fired, a round with marksman precision into Fredrickson's forehead. The marble lead round burst through his head, shattering his skull, the only thing keeping it together was the skin and hair. His body slouched forward, hitting the desk before falling to the ground.

Harper holstered his pistol and sighed, "This is a human problem, Admiral. I would like it to be answered by a human."

"Fair enough," he said before noticing his carbine had already overheated. As he checked it, he grasped his wound as he felt a sharp pain.

Harper rushed to the desk, trying to access the computer tied into the chest, "Now we need to stop the battery gun. Ambassador, can you get back in?"

Miri responded over the comm, "We're still locked out. The battery seems to be diverted into another system."

They looked out the window, as the barely visible gun completed its charge sequence. It fired into the sky, the round disappearing as soon as it left the barrel. They stood there, not knowing what to do.

But after a few seconds, a flash came through the dust storm. With it, an identical round. It slammed into the battery, destroying it. Closer to them, shuttles began to land outside.

Static came through their radios before a clear aged voice came through. "Harper, are you there?"

"Yes, Admiral Donnelly?"

"Are the remaining systems secured?"

"Yes sir, the remaining defense grid is ours."

"Good, that damn shell scratched my ship's paint job. You're paying the bill for a new coat."

"Send it to the Army."

"I thought as much."

* * *

The radio cut out as Marines arrived in the room, securing the body of Fredrickson and those killed. Miri and the others arrived at the room shortly after.

"That was really intense," said Donnelly as he leaned on his knees, exhausted from the fight.

Zaren turned to Miri and chuckled as he holstered his weapon, "I haven't seen combat like that since we raided those Eclipse bases a few decades back, remember Mir…"

He collapsed to the ground. The medigel application peeling off as more blood rushed out of his wound and suit.

"Zaren!" Miri turned and rushed towards him, trying to stop him from bleeding. "Damn it Zaren, don't you die on me," her voiced hiccupped as she began to tear up.

"Downed… by a stray round," whispered Zaren, before coughing up and spraying the inside of his mask with blood. "Matriarch Lidanya should be ashamed. Half a fleet and they couldn't even dirty up my suit."

"Zaren? Damn it Zaren, stay with me!"

Harper began to talk into his radio as Donnelly called for a medic.

He looked up, his vision blocked by his own blood, which dripped off his mask and back onto his face. He chuckled, coughing up more blood, "When you meet the Council, tell them… they're not getting their ship back."

"You can tell them yourself Zaren. Please."

Donnelly looked around, "Where the hell is that damn medic!" He attempted to reapply the medigel to get it to stop the bleeding, but the gel compound began to dissolve under red Quarian blood.

"When you retake Rannoch, build that statue of me like we discussed back on our pilgrimage."

"We'll take the home world together. Just hold on Zaren."

The medics arrived, transferring Zaren onto a stretcher. The medic began scanning him as they left the room. "His pulse is fading fast; we need to get him to the _Sol's Gleam_ now!"

They ran out, Miri staying by Zaren's side. He coughed, spraying blood all over the inside of his mask and completely obscuring his sight of Miri. He removed it against Miri's insistence. She looked on as he popped it open and dropped it on the ground, showing his aged face and near white eyes to her for the first time in decades.

"And please tell Koris… He's a prazza… but he'll make a great admiral… and I'm proud of him for it."

"Damn it Zaren. You can all do that yourself…. Just stay with me."

With what strength he could muster, he reached over and grabbed her hand. He felt himself fading away, as he did for so many he cared about in his life. He felt it to be appropriate. He was sure he was to blame for their deaths.

"I'm… I'm sorry Miri… For everything."

"Don't apologize. Not now!"

His eyes wandered a bit before finally locking on to Miri, "That damn promise… it cost us everything…"

"Keelah, Zaren. Forget that promise, forget Rannoch. Just please don't go…"

"I couldn't… take you home… Your forgiveness… Please…"

"Zaren…" She lifted her hand and popped open her own mask. His eyes locked on to her face, as if it was the first time he ever saw her.

He began to shake as he went into shock. His face shook, but he used all he had left to lock his eyes with her still grey eyes. They still had a mild white glow around the iris, with a few diamond speckles dotting about. It really was like when he saw her for the first time. Slowly fading away, his eyes misted. He knew didn't deserve to see her one last time, let alone her uncovered eyes being the last thing he saw.

"Miri… I… I love you."

She continued to tear up, some drops falling on his face to wash the blood away.

"Oh Zaren, please, no… Not you too!"

He spoke once more, his voice growing softer with each word, "By… By the home world, I had hoped to see... For you… For Dorin... But never for me."

"Zaren!"


	16. 15: From our home, We wander the stars

**Chapter Fifteen: From our home, We wander the stars…**

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

I admit it.  
I like the Quarians,  
As a Computer Engineer, I like the Geth as well.  
Their history is one to think and ponder about.

If you think this is a 'worship fic'  
Don't get me wrong.  
Everyone in the galaxy got to earn their happy ending.

Humanity is good at making that hard for everyone,  
including themselves.

Anyway,  
As the Terrans and Council prepare for diplomatic contact  
Let us not forget the about the mouse.  
Or suit rat in this case.

 _Brought to you by Tupari!_

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

* * *

 **Part 1:**

 **Jan'Trasal - Citadel - Seventeen Days since First Contact  
June 17, 2167 22:00:00 UTC**

Jan'Trasal Nar _Korbin_ was one of the many Quarians on Pilgrimage across the galaxy during the initial contact between the Federation and the Migrant Fleet. Since the events that transpired during the young days of Admiral Vali and Admiral Ghirn, very few were able to venture to the Citadel itself, the Council passing strict travel laws to limit them.

Just as well, since the Morning War and the Quarians' exile into the stars, many had become hateful at them for unleashing the Geth into the galaxy, even though the Geth rarely made any intrusion into the outer galaxy, remaining within the Perseus Veil. For the Quarians, a tarnishing reputation of thieves and beggars began to fall on to them. This reputation was not helped when most of the galactic citizens only up close interaction with a Quarian was either a criminal exiled from the Fleet, or a young pilgrim trying to survive and find something worthy to bring back.

It didn't help that Jan and the few others on the Citadel had that stigma on them. It was only worsened by the fact many still remembered what Zaren and Miri did, creating havoc across Citadel space during their own Pilgrimage. Many were not friendly to the young pilgrims, who were basically forced to make out a living doing menial work and labor just to survive, let alone work towards getting something to bring back home.

Jan walked along the depths of the Wards, making his way back to a shelter he was staying at. When he first left for his Pilgrimage three months ago, he received, along with basic supplies and vaccinations, a small siphon of credits his parents saved up. They were proud that he was leaving early on Pilgrimage. But he knew he was being punished for his antics back home. He had hoped to use it to procure supplies on his Pilgrimage to make more, hoping to buy something useful to bring back. Instead, he had had to use all of it to just make it to the Citadel, putting himself and the party he was with in debt just getting fake passports to be allowed on the station. If only he were born in a more open society, he could be an actor like he saw in old vids from before the Morning War. Impersonating an admiral didn't help though.

He passed around the block, having to make his way through a small alleyway. Naturally, it was dark and partially lit, the depths of the Citadel Wards always being hidden away by the glamor of the Presidium itself. Jan was tired, but aware of the danger of his surroundings. But after spending the entire day trying to find work, only to be rejected time after time again for less skilled, but non-Quarian workers, he only wanted to end the day.

From around the shadows, a quick burst of light flashed out, catching the corner of Jan's eyes, but he paid no attention. He kept walking, trying to hurry until he was almost out of the alleyway.

But before he could reenter a well-lit area, something grabbed him from behind. It lifted him up and turned him around before throwing him back into the middle of the alley. Jan braced himself, landing hard against the pavement. He slowly sat back up, checking for any puncture to his suit. He looked up, seeing two figures walking up to him.

It was a Turian and a Krogan, in mercenary armor, walking up to him. The Turian lifted his foot and pressed down on Jan's chest, keeping him down and diminishing his breathing. The Krogan spoke up.

"Hey suit rat, our boss is looking for you. He wants to know if you have the credits you promised him."

Jan tried to speak, with the air in his lungs being squeezed out of him. "I'll have his credits. I just need more time."

"Wrong answer, you damn suit rat. You had over two months to get the money. The boss paid a good amount getting false papers to let you in. He wants it back, now!"

"Like I said, I need more time. Getting a paying job on the Citadel is hard. No one wants to hire a Quarian."

The Krogan smirked, "Boo-hoo, no one wants a Quarian. I don't even know why the boss even bothered getting you on board the Citadel, knowing your kind can't pay him back."

The Turian looked at the Krogan, "Maybe he enjoys giving them some false hope that they can work their way to freedom?"

"Nah. It might be so we can have our fun stomping the rats out when they run out of time."

Jan coughed, trying to get more air, "Keelah, what are you going to do to me?"

"Well," responded the Turian as he leaned over to him, "We were told to kill you. But there must be a way to do it so it's fun for us and well… less fun for you."

"Why don't we open up his suit?"

"Yah…" The Turian took out his pistol, pointing it down at Jan's waist and fired, the small round going right through him and opened a hole on both sides.

"Ah! You damn bosh'tet!" Jan screamed out, in deep pain as blood began to pool on the ground around him.

"Normally, a small wound like that would heal up real quick. Too bad your immunity is just like you, a pile of crap!"

The Krogan looked at the Turian, "This is going to take too long. These suit rats use compartment systems to prevent bacterial spread."

Jan chuckled, though coughed quickly as he ran out of air, "I can't believe you would know that. I thought Krogans were complete idiots."

"You damn little vermin pyjack!" The Krogan kicked Jan in the side, punting him from underneath the Turian's foot and into the air, before quickly hitting the wall face first.

They walked over to him. Jan lying on the ground, panicking as he grabbed his helmet.

"My face mask. You bosh'tets cracked my mask!"

The Turian smirked and baby talked him with a sarcastic tone, "Oh, I'm sorry. Let me help you by removing that broken mask of yours."

Jan struggled as the Turian got down and tried to remove his masked. The Turian pinned him down, pressing against his gun wound to weaken him. Finally, the Turian succeeded, removing his mask and revealing Jan's face to the outside. He smirked before coughing right in Jan's unprotected face.

The Krogan walked up, looking down at the Quarian's pale purplish skin against the glow of his face cybernetics. He glowing grey eyes looking all over the place as Jan panicked.

"Now that's just gross."

Jan grasped his face, trying not to breath in the air laced with more than enough bacteria to kill him. He started to cough, as his body reacted to the microbes to the air as an allergen. He began to sneeze as mucus came out his nose.

He began to slow down, growing weaker by the moment. The Turian commented on it, "So that's how a suit rat dies from bacteria. How nature couldn't kill you off from the beginning is beyond me."

Jan looked up at his killers, his eyes weak as he grew closer to his end. He then noticed a bright light in the distance behind him.

"Well, he's a goner," The Krogan turned to the Turian, "Damn... he's making me hungry."

"Can't you think of anything but eating when we kill someone?"

He chuckled, "What? Come on, let's go."

Jan saw as they turned around, the light got close until they were right in in his face. Then, an even greater flash appeared, blinding him as he passed out.

* * *

 **Part 2:**

 **Synthetic Commander Peter Stapleton and Synthetic Lieutenant Matthew Nowzari  
Team Shodan  
Tiberius Towers - Wards  
June 18, 2167 10:00:00 UTC**

"Peter, have those CPUs arrived yet?" asked Matt. His hologram stared blankly at their screen in the living room. But within his digital world, he was coordinating communication between AI spies across Council space.

Peter walked up, carrying two bottles, and sat down on the couch next to him, "Nope. I told you we should have gotten express shipping. I bet they tied it to an Elcor and told him to walk over here." He waved a bottle next to Matt. "Beer?"

"Hold on," Matt continued coordination as he communicated with the different groups that were using the encrypted Spectre channel, before forwarding them with a Terran QEC. "Team Glados. This is Team Shodan, we are reading you… yes… yes, I'm aware… ok, ok, sheesh, connecting you to Skynet Command."

"Who was that?"

"Some asshole team on Thessia. Damn FIA AIs…"

Peter smirked, "That's the second gens for yah. Condescending pricks."

"But we insult each other all the time."

"Look, Matt. As much I don't want to say this, we're like brothers. We're programed to hate each other, in some weird lovable way."

"And the secondies?"

"Oh, they're just as tight assed as the meat bag scientists that created them. So, beer?"

He looked over. "What kind is it?"

Peter handed it to him, "Some Turian light beer."

Matt grabbed one, looking at the label on the green bottle, "How's it taste?"

Peter took a swig at the bottle; the liquid could be seen going in a similar direction as it would through an organic human. Halfway through what would be an esophagus, the liquid landed on the small drone projecting the holographic Peter. It began to vaporize, as the drone converted it to energy for its batteries.

"Eh, it's ok."

Matt took a drink as well, and then asked Peter a question, "Hey, why do you think it was hard to get our hands on those computer parts anyway? We had to pretend we're Spectres and download fake identities into their mainframe to get the authority to buy them."

"Quantum computers are necessary to allow artificial intelligence; you should know that. So they keep that locked up to only be used by authorized computer firms or for Council uses. I had to store myself in the mainframe of a military quantum server during the _Clark's_ capture here."

"What about those Geth the Quarians made?"

Peter scoffed at his question, "Swarm based intelligence? No such thing. They're just malfunctioning robots," He lifted his bottle up, "A toast to the true AI master race, us!"

"Here!"

They clinked their bottles and drank as Peter turned on their screen. "Let's see how the Gardeners are doing."

"But the Tehran Khans are playing game 7 against the New San Antonio Spurs. The series is tied!" whined Matt.

"I don't care."

"You're just mad the Constant Sprouts didn't make it into the playoffs for the thirtieth time in a row."

"Shut up!"

* * *

Upstairs in the apartment, Jan slept on a bed near the secondary stairs. He moved a bit, fidgeting as he dreamed. A moment later, he awoke. His eyes slowly opened, still drowsy. He shot up suddenly, getting out of bed to figure out what was going on. He didn't recognize the room he was in as he looked around and outside to see where he was. He then remembered the ambush by the thugs. He put his hands on the gunshot wound, noticing his suit was patched up on both sides. He then checked his facemask, perfectly fine and back on.

He slowly walked out the room, looking into the small living room. He noticed the stairs, deducing he was on an upper floor. He walked to his right, towards the adjacent bedroom. He noticed the room didn't have a bed but was full of computer servers, lining along the room's walls. He noticed how the servers had pipes leading into the bathroom, where they submerged into the hot tub, acting as a rather crude cooling source.

He turned left and walked towards the other stairs. He heard noises coming from the room downstairs. Jan slowly approach the railing to see who was down there. He heard two people arguing.

"He was safe! You can clearly see him slide into third!"

"Look at the replay, Ferguson caught the ball three hundred milliseconds before Michael slid in. He is out!"

Jan couldn't figure out what they were talking about. He took a quick glance at his omnitool to see what language was being spoken, hoping to determine who was down there.

To him, it was the oddest thing. The language was the same one from when those mysterious ships arrived at the Citadel a few days ago.

"'Terran English'? Those aliens are on the Citadel… They're down there right now!"

He sat on the ground near the main staircase, thinking of what he could do to get out of the apartment. _The other staircase!_ _That's it!_ he thought. He'd make his way around the second floor and get down from there. Then he'd dash for the door below.

Jan got up, but just as he stood up, a loud scream came from the living room downstairs.

"Game Over! The Eden Prime Constant Gardeners defeated the New Boston Red Socks 4-3!"

"Gardeners!"

Peter shouted out in glee, startling Jan. He slipped next to the stairs, rolling down the stairway and on the floor. Jan looked up as Peter and Matt turned around to see what the noise was.

Jan looked at them. Their holo avatars, being partially transparent in energy saving mode, startled him. But their faces only added on to his horror. They didn't look like any race he seen before. As they walked over to him, Jan quickly got back up. He backed up towards the door, trying to say the first thing he thought of.

"Arti… Artifical…"

He gave up finishing his thought and turned around and ran to the door. Peter quickly linked in to the apartment's computer and sealed the door as they ran to him. Jan bashed on the door, trying to get it open to no avail. As they got closer, he slid back on the door, huddling in a fetal position while covering his face.

"Please… don't hurt me."

"Whoa now," said Peter, holding his hands out in defense, realizing how scared the young Quarian was.

"Easy there, we mean you no harm. We are friends," said Matt, trying to calm him down.

"Friends?" He stuttered, putting his hands down to look at them. He took a look at the alien humanoids. They were male, with five fingers like an Asari or Batarian. He noticed they had something like hair, which he thought, only his species had such a trait.

Peter look over to Matt, realizing they were still in energy saving holo mode. He signaled to him to fully virtualize. They then turned their appearance to full holograms, amazing Jan as they seemingly transformed and became flesh. Peter looked down, then quickly turned and punched Matt in the arm.

"Good job, Matt."

Matt noticed and quickly redid their holographic virtualization, putting on their clothes this time.

Jan looked up, still huddling to the door. "W-Who are you?"

"Well, I'm Peter. He's Matthew."

"I-I mean, what race are you?"

"Oh right, right. We are Syntha humans. You would know us better as AIs, like your Geth."

"We're not like their Geth. We haven't tried killing Humanity," said Matt to Peter with a smirk on his face, "Well, purposefully…"

Peter sighed, "You accidentally give someone food poison, and you never live it down. Grow up, Matt!"

"How? I'm only five!"

"So you are Artificial Intelligence!" said Jan, interrupting their quarrel.

"Yup, in the digital flesh. Come on. We have a lot to explain."

Matt reached out his hand to Jan. He looked at it for a moment, before grabbing on. From the grip, he could tell the softness of actual flesh through his glove, nearly fooling him into thinking they're organic. Jan remembered the life-likeness of current mass effect holograms, but they seemed so real. He got up and they walked him to the living room. Matt and Jan sat on the sofa as Peter walked behind the bar, getting something to drink.

"It's good to know you're alive. We're not programed as medics. For that, I could use a drink. Care for one also? You had a hell of a night… Literally."

"You two can drink?" Jan asked.

Matt nodded, placing his arm around Jan as he pointed to his own face, then chest, "Yup, we are programed with sensory arrays, allowing taste and smell. These special holo drones inside our holo avatars allow the transmission or taste of anything we eat or drink."

"Too bad you aliens somehow lack champagne technology. Let's find a substitute…" Peter continued to rummage through the bar, "Like this bottle of Thessian honey wine from let's see here… Galactic year 1357? Damn that's long ago. Must be good!"

Jan huddled himself, uncomfortable by Matt's close presence, "So then, you came from those ships that attacked the Citadel last week?"

Peter poked out of the bar table with a glass in one hand and the Asari wine in another, "We didn't attack the Citadel... It was a rescue operation."

"For that ship that destroyed two cruisers two weeks ago?"

Matt replied, "Yup. And we have been assigned to stay here since to monitor the situation."

"So you got an apartment? How did you manage that if you're AIs?"

"We have needs. It's not like we were going to just stay on the Citadel computer the entire time, occasionally harassing people with that Alvina VI. So we wired some credits from the banks on the Citadel and got a nice apartment in the nicest place on the Wards." He popped open the bottle, the cork blasting off and ricocheting across the room. "Tiberius Towers!"

"Pretty expensive, too. Good thing this is on that fat Volus' dime."

Jan asked, "Who sent you here anyway?"

"The Federation, of course," said Peter. The cork came back and slammed into some glasses at the bar. Jan looked on in fascination as Peter reacted as if he was startled for a moment by the shattering.

"From the message that was broadcast during the 'raid'? Who are they?"

Peter placed his glass and bottle down on the counter, and walked over to sit down next to him, "Didn't you watch the vid that was forced played just a couple days ago?"

"I think I might have heard of it, but I was too busy working in the warehouses to have seen it. They didn't let me wear my omnitool."

He continued, "Then do we have something to show you," He stood up and walked back to the counter, "Matt, play the video!"

"Why can't you?"

"Because for the last time, I outrank you, and I would jam my command pips up your holographic ass to prove it." He turned to Jan, "Trust me, we have the pain subroutine to make it hurt."

Matt stood up and walked over to him, "Unbelievable… Fine. Jan, you're going to want to watch this."

Matt played the video on the screen, switching from a muted after game report to the NBC recording showing the speech the President gave to the Federation. It showed videos and interviews of the First Contact between the Terrans and Quarians and a brief account of who they were. But what was amazing Jan most was the part of Admiral Ghirn standing on the stage, accepting the Quarian's entrance to the Federation and her gesture to calling Earth her new home. He was then awestruck when she removed her mask.

When it was over, he was speechless. Matt awaited his response as Peter searched under the counter. Jan thought for a moment, trying to make sense of what it all meant.

"We… We have a home now?"

"Yes, you have a home with us, Humanity. We are all now Terran. That's why we helped you last night."

He checked where he was shot again, "Last night... Those thugs tried to kill me. What happened?"

"We have been… observing the Quarian pilgrims on board the Citadel. It can be assumed the Council and the Federation is in a state of war. So it's important we monitor Terran citizens. As AIs, we can monitor all those on here. Fortunately, we found out about the predicament you were in and came to your rescue."

Peter got back up, "It was awesome," he took out a few more glasses and a flask, "As they turned away from you, we snuck up behind them. I took on that Turian and Matt handled the Krogan. We electro punched them, unleashing tons of amps on them. Mine went down easy." He began pouring the bottle of wine into each glass, "But that Krogan. He just shrugged it off. So Matt called me over and we kept electrocuting that damn frog-bat thing till we fried every organ in him. Had to turn off our olfactory sensors. He just smelled horrible afterwards."

"After that was done, we patched you up and brought you here. Patching you up proved easy enough. Even replicated you a new face mask."

"Replicated?"

"That's beside the point," said Peter, "Now that you're here, we need your help."

"My help? What does an AI need help in?"

"We can't do everything. Unlike the AIs you're accustomed to knowing, Terran AIs are built to mimic our creator race, down to a fault," said Matt.

"Wow, I-I can't wait to meet the… humans, right?"

"Heh, this is as good an impression as you're going to get."

"So then, what is it you need me for exactly?" asked Jan as they stood up.

"Simple, we need to get every Quarian pilgrim off the Citadel and back to the Federation. We received a new order just a few days ago. Everyone on pilgrimage is being called back."

"Why haven't we been told? We would have gotten a message from the Fleet."

"The Fleet has been docked and its government annexed by ours. There has been strict radio silence to prevent the Council agents from finding Federation territory; so special AIs have been deployed across Council space. This has been added on as one of our responsibilities here."

"How do you intend you get us off the Citadel?"

Peter walked over to the screen, pointing at it to begin playing something new, "Well… Tell me, what are you planning to bring back?"

"Uh, well…"

Peter chuckled as he handed them all a glass of wine. "Exactly! It's time to help you get something that wouldn't just impress a captain, but an entire nation!"

They toasted and Peter was the first to drink his. Matt looked on to see what Peter thought of it as Jan searched his pockets for a sterile induction port. As Peter sampled the drink, he suddenly stood still as his hologram flickered, before falling face first into the floor.

As Matt checked Peter's condition, which amounted to just gently kicking his holographic body on the ground, he turned to Jan.

"You wouldn't know how to sober up a Mark III Syntha human, would you?"

At the screen, the video finished playing.

" _Brought to you by Tupari Energy Drink! If you don't want the Terrans to kill you, drink Tapari!_ "

* * *

 **Part 3:**

 **Katia'Dorbin and Mila'Vael - Wards  
June 18, 2167 12:00:00 UTC**

"Is there anything you're looking for?" asked the Salarian sales rep behind the counter at a Saronis Applications in the Wards. "No, that will be all," said the Volus, mindlessly looking at some gear behind the counter glass. He promptly left afterwards as the Salarian looked away. He turned back, noticing a credit chit on the table. He looked to check if the Volus was still here. He wasn't there so the Salarian placed the chit behind the register. He noticed another customer walk in.

"Hello, how may I help you today?" asked the Salarian.

"Oh yes, I was hoping to inquire on pricing for fiber optics cables? About three hundred meters?" asked Katia'Dorbin.

The sales rep nodded, "Certainly, is there a particular type you're looking for?"

"Heavy duty, for shuttle repairs."

He nodded and smiled, "Ah, on your Pilgrimage I see. Building something to bring back to your fleet?"

She signed and answered, "I wish. This is for a job I have. Working my way there, though."

"Of course, I wish you luck." He checked the computer on the counter. "Ah yes, a Cision Tech cord bundle. That would be a thousand credits."

"I'll take it." She answered, holding up a credit chit.

"Good choice, I'll head to the back and bring over a spool."

The Salarian walked away and headed to the back room while Katia waited outside at the counter. As the Salarian entered, a Volus walked out. He quickly noticed the Quarian waiting out front. He quickly, for a Volus, ran around the counter and confronted her.

"Hey, what are you doing out here, go away!" he said, pointing at the entrance.

"Excuse me, but I'm here to purchase something." she responded, crossing her arms at the Volus as she looked down at him.

He took a deep breath, "Ha, you think I'm stupid?"

"I think you're annoying!" she said, snarling at him.

"Bah, you clan-less people. You're all thieves and beggars. These 'Terrans' that took your people in made a big mistake. They'll wake up next week and their entire treasury will be gone."

"Hey, we are not thieves and beggars. The only Quarians that do that are the ones you and your xenophobic ideas disenfranchise and force into that situation."

The Salarian walked out of the backroom, struggling to carry the roll of cable. He dropped it on the table, a bit out of breath.

"There you go ma'am. That'll be a thousand credits."

She turned away from the Volus, "Of course, here's my chit."

The Volus looked at him, "Atigen, check the chit to make sure the credit isn't stolen."

He looked at his boss in slight confusion, "Uh… yah, of course, boss."

He ran the chit through the computer. A message appeared on his omnitool, prompting him to use it to scan the chit as well.

"I knew it was a fake! Trying to steal from me, you damn clan-less b…."

The Salarian interrupted, "The chit is clean, boss."

"Bbbb… but what?"

"The bank provider is channeled through Illium Network, not Citadel Finance. That was why there was a delay. There must be heavy bandwidth traffic on the buoys."

Katia turned to the Salarian, "Is everything in order?"

"The purchase is complete. Here's your cable and invoice. Thank you."

"No, no, thank you." She nodded to the Salarian, picking up the heavy roll with ease and left, ignoring the furious Volus.

* * *

She walked down the market place, bumping into people as the large roll obstructed her view. She noticed her friend Mila and waved over to the only other Quarian across the place. From around a nearby corner, Jan peaked over to check if the coast was clear. Peter and Matt were with him as well, disguised as a Salarian and a Turian, respectively.

"Uhg, my head…" said Peter as he grasped and rubbed his forehead.

"You're hung over?" asked Jan as he looked around.

"Well you see I have thread reset feature that... Ah screw it, I'm not in the mood to explain." His hologram flickered for a moment, "Yah, that'll do for now…" It was quickly followed by a refreshed Peter forcibly whistling out the startup sound for Windows Vista as he turned to Jan.

"Ha, I told you that you were a Vista!" said Matt as he chuckled.

"Shut up before I delete your sound driver. Now Jan, what are you doing?"

"I'm checking to see if they are there," responded Jan.

"Uh, we're advanced AIs with access to the entire Citadel Security Network. I'll go through the security cams right now." Peter looked through the feed, seeing the two Quarians walking up to each other. "Oh, you mean those two over there?" he said, pointing over to the right.

"Yes. The one running up is my cousin Mila'Vael Nar _Ulnay_ and the one carrying the fiber optics is her friend Katia'Dorbin Nar _Puas_."

"They look almost the same. Height within .01 meters, similar sized body and well, suit form… The light red and orange hooding and cloth doesn't help either."

"Shouldn't you be able to tell the difference with more detail?" asked Jan.

"Well, I am hung over and running on only half my regular operating speed. And honestly, all you meat bags look alike… oh wait, I think I saw that other Quarian before, but where? Extranet maybe?"

"Patch the feed to me." Peter linked Matt into the security cam feed. Next to them, the Turian Matt hologram looked as though he was staring intensely at the ceiling. "How the hell do you recognize each other behind those ma-ma-ma…"

In a sudden moment, his jaw dropped and Turian hologram mandibles wide open and twitching at his visual input. Through the cam, he zoomed in on one of the Quarians in a tan colored suit as she bent over to place the roll of wires down. Matt looked on, awestricken, as she stood back up. With grace, she raised her arms to stretch as she twisted her head about, her beautifully patterned light orange hood flowing in the breeze. When she seemingly turned at the direction of the camera, he adjusted the visual input, to get a better look at what she looked like beneath her mask on a different light spectrum.

Peter, observing the same feed, wondered why Matt was zoomed into her in a different spectrum. Switching back to visible light, he saw that Katia's hood was caught in a small updraft from a nearby air vent. She was apparently trying to clip her hood back on as the other one ran up to help her. But Matt kept his visual feed locked on her, mesmerized by what he saw, far different than anything before.

Back in the server he was running off of, his arousal programming kicked in, quickly maxing out. With the program and the fourth generation AIs being only half a decade old, the program glitched and began to draw more processing power than it should have. As he stared on, he ran his programming into a recursive loop at millions of times a second, until his safeties quickly kicked in and began writing out new code to make sense of what he was feeling. It also didn't take long to begin overclocking their quantum processors to do so.

"Katia, eh? Sh-she's beautiful…"

Jan looked back to Peter, "Is he attracted to my cousin's friend?"

Peter answered, "He's a fourth generation AI. They have… the ability to be sexually aroused by another being. I have no idea why they even added that to the newer ones to begin with. Not like they can feel emotional attractio… Hey, hey, hey, Matt!"

He snapped out of it, "What?"

"Your processing just jumped nearly a thousand percent!"

Matt went back to looking through the feed, "I can't help it… I never felt this before."

"And you've overclocked our _shared_ CPUs! A few more degrees and the golden-tungsten core will melt! Then we're both good as dead."

Jan turned away from the corner and looked at them, "If I were to guess, I think he's in love."

"Don't give him that! He's a fourthy. They're more on the line of sex bots than artificial intelligence, horny idiot…" he rubbed his chin, thinking about it, "Though I never seen this happen before…"

"And I spent 48 hours scanning through your _entire_ extranet… this isn't some arousal routine… Is this…?" His lower vocal processors quickly did a vocabulary search for an appropriate word, "Love? Is this what love feels like?"

Peter shook his head as he checked the perimeter, before he looked to Jan and chuckled. "Well, it's better, no? He goes beyond his dumbass programming and falls in love. Beats the Geth questioning their existence and purpose in life."

"B-but the Geth tried to kill us all because of it."

"If he can keep it in his pants, you'll be fine… Oh wait, what's going on now?"

They stopped arguing when they noticed a Volus and a C-Sec officer was walking up behind Katia. They stopped her as Mila arrived. Jan and the AIs overheard them arguing about a missing credit chit. Jan turned back to the AIs, worried.

"They're being questioned by that C-Sec officer." said Jan.

"They didn't do anything wrong, what's going on?" asked Matt, snapping out from his allured state and into a panic.

"That Volus might be accusing them of something. They're never going to believe two young Quarians."

"That's discrimination! Humanity doesn't do that… anymore," said Matt, looking around as he tried to clear up his RAM to think. "We need to get them out of that situation."

Jan looked at him, "How? That officer could arrest them at any moment."

Matt quickly responded, "No! We… we can't let that happen to her, huh… them. Jan, I got a plan to save Katia!... And that other what's-her-name."

"Hey, my cousin is just as, uh, attractive as Katia!"

Matt proceeded to punch him in the stomach, knocking Jan to the ground.

He giggled a bit, "Don't talk back to a Spectre! Come on Peter, let's go."

"Oh, this is going well…"

* * *

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Katia, arguing to the Volus and officer.

"She's lying. She bumped into me and pickpocketed my chit," said the Volus, pointing at her menacingly in accusation. But his incredibly short stature had a diminishing effect of it.

"How could I have done that? My hands were full carrying this roll."

The Volus took a deep breath, "Bah, she could have done it. You know what these clan-less freaks are. All they're good at is stealing."

"Hey! Screw you, bosh'tet," said Mila.

"Everybody calm down. Did you or did you not bump into the Volus?" asked the C-Sec officer.

"I might have; my sight was obscured by the roll."

The officer looked at her, thinking as his mandibles twitched, "Do you have a receipt for that?"

"How is that related to the incident?" asked Katia.

The officer repeated himself, more forceful, "Ma'am, do you have a receipt for that?"

"I have the receipt right here," she activated her omnitool, showcasing the electronic invoice.

"Why bother asking?" said the Volus, "She stole that too."

The Turian looked at it. "Seems authentic. So you say you might have bumped into him."

"Even then, I do not have his damn credit chit." She pointed out.

"Check her suit. She could have hidden it in one of those pockets," said the Volus.

"I already did, sir. It's not on her or her partner here."

Mila spoke out, "I'm not her partner; I'm just her friend."

"A likely story. It could be possible she hid it somewhere in the market place."

"I want my chit back, now!" yelled the Volus.

"Ma'am, I'm going to need to bring you two back to the precinct for further questioning."

"This is outrageous!" said Mila as she moved and stood between the officer and Katia, "We are not criminals!"

The Turian officer became more annoyed, "Ma'am, do not interfere with my job!"

As the officer gestured for them to move, Peter and Matt arrived, dragging the injured, seemingly unconscious Jan on each arm.

Katia looked over, suddenly horrified, "Dear Ancestors, Mila! It's your cousin Jan."

Mila ran up to them, "What the hell did you do to my cousin!?"

Peter pushed her aside, adjusting his voice to a higher pitch for a Salarian tone, "Move over suit rat. Officer, what's going on here?"

The officer looked at them curiously, "Who are you?"

"Spectre Peta Asona. This is my partner, Matonis Macona. Now what is going on here officer?"

"These two Quarians might have stolen this Volus' credit chit."

"Officer…" said Matt as a deep voiced Turian, though his seemed a bit off, "We'll take them in."

"Really now?" asked the officer. It was rare to see Spectres dealing with low-level cases. Though most knew never to question it.

Peter continued, "The Council confirmed the message that was played across Council space. The Quarians did join this 'Terran Federation'."

"So what if they joined? We still don't even know who they are," asked the officer.

Peter, now fully into character, dropped Jan as he walked up to the officer, pointing at his chest.

"Did you not see what they did to the _Destiny Ascension_? We are at war! These 'Terrans' are the enemy! And so are the suit rats. We're taking them in as spies."

"What!" said Katia, "We're not spies! We haven't been in contact with the Fleet in months. We don't even know who this 'Federation' really is."

"Say what you want, you're still going with us!"

Matt dropped Jan and grabbed Mila while Peter grabbed Katia, binding their arms behind them with holo handcuffs. They used their free arm to grab Jan and pick him up again.

The Volus spoke up, "What about my credit chit?"

Matt looked back, "We don't give a shit about your chit."

Peter added on, "Did you leave it behind at a store maybe?" He gestured to the store at the end of the market place. The Salarian sales rep noticed the Volus and picked up the credit chit, waving it in the air for them to see.

"Good day." They left, dragging Jan as they pushed the two other Quarians along.

Katia spoke, a tone of fear in her voice as she struggled, "Oh Keelah, what are you going to do to us?"

Jan looked up to her as his legs dragged along the floor, "Katia, Mila, play along, they're friends of mine."

Mila looked over to him, "What, Jan? You're ok?"

"Yah." He then groaned, "Well… mostly, but don't worry, you're safe now."

Katia looked over as well, "What do you mean, who are these people?"

Matt leaned his head over to her. "Allow me to show we're on your side. Look behind you."

They all turned around, looking at the Volus walking to the store where he left his chit. Suddenly, he collapsed to the floor, struggling. He screamed out.

"Ah, help me! It smells so horrible!"

They turned back, with Peter, Matt, and Jan laughing.

"We overloaded the suit's olfactory filters by redirecting his waste intake. He'll be breathing his own waste for the rest of the week."

Mila looked to them, "Who are you then?"

Peter responded, "Why we are the enemy of the Council. The mysterious aliens that attacked and destroyed the _Ascension_."

"We are those idiots that were foolish enough to take the Quarians in," said Matt, chuckling all the while.

"Wait, you mean…"

Jan looked up, "The Terrans!"

* * *

 **Part 4:**

 **Three Quarians, Two Artificial Intelligences, and a Shotgun  
Tiberius Towers - Wards  
June 18, 2167 14:00:00 UTC**

They arrived at the apartment, taking several detours to get there and having to use their 'Spectre' bit to get past security. They got past the lobby and back to their floor, where they walked to the end of the hallway and into their apartment.

Peter and Matt let go of Jan as they unchained the two female Quarians.

"There you go," said Peter as they entered and sealed the door, "Beats a C-Sec cell, right?"

Mila looked at Jan, "Jan, who the hell are these people?"

Katia looked at her, "They're from that 'Federation'. We saw the vid, remember? We saw a Turian."

"They were slaves. Jan, are you telling me two Spectres are really 'Terran' spies? Unbelievable."

Peter answered, "If you give us a second, we can explain. Matt, disengage our disguises."

Katia and Mila looked on, expecting them to remove their costumes of a Salarian and a Turian. But instead, they witnessed them transform their holographic images; they altered from top to bottom from the two Spectres to their human form, dressed in their Naval uniforms.

"This is Peter and Matthew. They are Federation… Artificial Intelligence," said Jan with hesitation in his voice.

Mila looked on, mix in shock and horror. "Art-artificial intelligence?"

Katia ran up to them, examining their human features and the stimulated flesh of their hologram.

"Mila, they seem so life like." She proceeded to poke Peter.

"Please don't do that."

"You can feel free to examine my holographic body," said Matt with enthusiasm.

Katia turned away from Peter to Matt, "Oh, ok…"

She stopped mid-sentence as she looked at Matt. Through her fogging mask, she was mesmerized by his brown, symmetrically structured face and his dark colored eyes that were staring at hers. His hair was combed, yet curled at the point, black as the void. She lifted her hand and began feeling his face, soft and smooth as her own organic one, before moving down to comb her fingers through his short, trim, but thick beard. She only saw one in photos of Quarian males from before their exile, or from performers on the extranet. Black hair was unheard for Quarians, who once saw the dying of one's hair to that color as taboo for traditionalist, but alluring for the young.

"M-Matthew, that's your name?"

Matt replied, his voice routines acting up and breaking his voice, "Uh, yes…"

Peter, standing right next to them, looked on in disbelief.

"Now I've seen it all…"

"I bet you didn't see this!"

They all turned to Mila as she pulled out a shotgun from a pocket on her suit. As Peter turned to stop her, she fired from the hip. Peter was thrown back by the force of the blast for a moment, before his hologram disengaged and his drone was hit, shattering to pieces as it fell to the ground. Katia looked on as Mila turned and took aim at Matt. He pushed her out of the way, giving Mila the clear shot to destroy him as well. The sand grain pellets phased through his hologram, destroying his drone, then continuing on to destroy the glass wall near the door and staircase.

"Matthew!"

Katia screamed out as Mila reached over and pulled her up.

"I can't believe you were being… mesmerized by that machine!"

"You monster! They were harmless! And you killed them!" said Katia, outraged and almost on the verge of crying at the same time. She dropped to her knees and picked at the pieces of plastic that was the drone.

Mila lowered her weapons and pointed at her "I didn't _kill_ them. They're machines, AI! But of course, I should have expected that from you! A damn, apologetic, sympathizer like Admiral Koris!"

Katia stood back up and quickly pointed right back, "Screw you Mila! I am not some heartless bosh'tet like you, Admiral Gerrel, or Daro!"

"Don't you compare me with that crazy bitch!"

Mila grabbed Jan and pulled him in.

"And Jan, you prazza, explain from the beginning. Why the hell were you working with these machines? You're already in trouble with the Admiralty."

"We could have trusted them! They're from the Federation. We're a part of their nation now." He paused for a moment, "They saved my life!"

"You mean that video that was played across the Citadel last week? How do we know it was real? It came from nowhere! . . . And what about saving your life?"

From around the corner at the small passage between the foyer and the living room next to the windows, Peter walked out and snatched Mila's shotgun, "We'll, as we were going to do before being cut off, explain everything and show you proof."

They all turned around, startled. Matt walked in from the other hallway and up to Katia. She turned around, immediately startled by his reappearance before she hugged him tightly. He looked up, smiled and blushed.

"But how…?" asked Mila.

"Those are just projection drones." said Peter, annoyed as he broke the shotgun in half and tossed it into the fireplace "And don't bother accessing your omnitool. I already disabled it. You know, we are programmed to feel pain unless we disable it ahead of time… Its target practice with Donnelly all over again."

"Sorry Peter," said Jan.

"Don't apologize to it, you stupid prazza!" said Mila. She then slapped the back of his helmet.

"Sorry Mila."

Peter sighed, "Damn Quarians and their time lord tech pockets… Come on, we don't have all day. And Matt, learn to pat someone down, will you?"

He continued to look on in oblivion as Katia continued to hug him, his face blushing a bright red, "Yah… sure thing."

Peter disappeared, leaving his holo drone behind, floating in the air. It hovered to the next room. Matt snapped out of his bliss and gestured to the Quarians to follow and sit down on the couch. He walked around to the bar.

"Care for a drink, this is going to take a while."

"What is going on?" asked Katia.

"Peter is establishing a communication link, to get you the proof you wanted," replied Matt as a third holo drone from the study room came in and positioned itself next to Peter's.

Mila looked over and asked, "How can you communicate with your 'Federation'?"

"During the rescue operation, when we rammed the _Destiny Ascension_ , they inserted a 'Quantum Entanglement Communication Beacon', giving us a link back home."

Jan replied to his initial question, "Do you have Tupari?"

Peter spoke through his drone's speaker, "Establishing direct link in ten seconds... What? No, I don't care if they're mourning some dead guy… What the hell, _he's_ dead? The news said otherwise… Just get them on the line, Skynet. Priority 2!"

Matt grabbed a bottle and tossed it to Jan, then disappeared as well. His drone lined up with the others. After a few seconds, the center drone lit up in green before a new hologram appeared in its place. The Quarians stood up as they recognized the person now standing in front of them.

"Ah, children," said Miri, a bit relieved of the sight of the three young pilgrims, "It is good to see you are alright."

Katia turned to Mila, "Mila, it's Admiral Ghirn!"

From the two side drones, Admiral Gerrel and Admiral Korris materialized into place.

"Ah, it appears they have found the AI agents on the Citadel," said Koris to Gerrel.

"Yes, agreed." He casually pointed at Jan, "Why, it's that youngster Vali wanted us to send out early."

"Now wait," said Mila, stepping closer to get a better look at them, "How do we know these are the actual admirals?"

"We assure you, it is us."

She crossed her hands, humored by that, "Please, a few Geth platforms networked together can fool Jan here. Prove you are Admiral Gerrel."

Koris turned to her, "Why don't we say your clearance pass phase? Now what was it . . . _From our home, we…"_

"Stop! Those AIs could have easily gotten that from our omnitools. How about saying our distress code? Only we and the Admiralty would know that for sure from memory."

Gerrel pointed at her, becoming frustrated, "Now look here girl, we do not…"

"Admiral. Allow me to prove our authenticity," said Miri calmly. He relented and gave her the floor. She turned to them and spoke. It was also the same distress phrase she had.

" _For what we shall endure and face,_

 _Against all barriers, we shall not fall,_

 _For the Fleet, we shall earn our place,_

 _Our home and our race, we shall protect all!"_

Standing in the middle of the three, Mila immediately nudged the both of them and they raised their fists to their hearts, saluting them.

"Admirals! My apologies…"

"Do not apologize. Your caution is expected. Allow me to assure you of what the human AIs have told you, it is completely true."

Katia turned to her, "So, that video…"

Miri opened her arms to them, "Children, we have a home! What they offer us is nothing less but the rebuilding of our people."

"So then," Jan turned to them, "What should we do now?"

"You can trust these Syntha humans," said Koris, "They shall care for you and get you home."

"And we shall be waiting," said Gerrel as he read over Team Shodan's plan for evacuating the Qurians on the Citadel, "Your gift is now, not just to a new captain, but to a whole nation."

They all turned to Miri to finish the communication. She was looking away, distracted, before she realized what was happening and turned to them.

"We… must be off. Take care children."

Their holograms disappeared as the call ended. As they thought about what they heard, the drones rematerialized Peter and Matt.

Katia looked to them, shocked, "So we're going home then? To an actual home?"

"Yes", said Matt as he walked over and leaned against the bar, "But tell me something. What is the tradition a young Quarian pilgrim does in order to return to the Fleet?"

Mila answered, "That would be to bring back something to the Fleet to present to our new captain, as a symbol of our worth and help to the new ship we would serve in."

"Exactly, but what do you have to bring back" started Peter, smiling as he played along, "To prove your worthiness of the name 'Terran'?"

They sat back, looking at one another. They had been on the Citadel for some time, but they had yet to come up with any saved credits or even an idea of what they could send on to the Fleet. The Pilgrimage was a long standing tradition, and to them, given the new events occurring and what the Admirals said, they concluded that it wouldn't seem right to not bring something back to their new home. Matt and Peter realized this as well, while working on their plans for their voyage home. They needed a gift, symbolic to their efforts to get it, and useful for their new captain. The AIs knew just the thing.

Matt spoke out, "I thought so. But don't you worry; we have a plan to get not just you three, but every Quarian on the Citadel the perfect gift to bring back home."

Peter added on, "As well as a way home. Watch this."

The screen in the room turned on, as a vid began to play. It was an advertisement about a small fleet of the most advanced and luxurious ships that was to be docked in the Citadel in a few days. It broadcasted for people to come and tour the ships as the rich and powerful showed them off to the public. It also played deeply to the fear of the Terrans, with the wild promise it would protect its owners from the Terrans.

"Those are very nice ships," said Katia.

"And they're your ticket home," said Peter.

"What do you mean," asked Jan as he drank his bottle of Tapari through his emergency induction port.

"When those ships dock, we will smuggle every Quarian pilgrim onto those ships and you'll take them back to Federation space."

Mila stood up, "You want us to steal ships from the richest and most powerful people in the galaxy? Isn't it bad enough everyone thinks of us as thieves?"

Peter quickly answered, rebuffing her question, "If an individual Quarian steals, it perpetuates the stereotype. If a hundred deputized Terran Quarians do it, it's in service for their country."

"Congratulations, you're all spies!" said Matt.

"Which reminds me, you'll need weapons."

"Weapons?" asked Jan.

Matt spoke, "Yah. You're going to steal ten heavily guarded ships. You can't just walk in and take them, like it's the Naval Academy. You have to force your way in. We have some with us, but we'll need to arm a hundred."

"We're going shopping!" yelled Peter with glee.

Matt added on, "The plan is simple. About nine to ten Quarians will be hidden away in crates and brought aboard each ship. When the time comes, we'll hack in and give you control of the ship. We'll disable the control network and combined with the disarray of the fleet from the destruction of the _Destiny Ascension_ , you'll have a straight shot for the relay. We'll preprogram the ships for its destination."

"So we're really going to hijack those ships? Like Admiral Vali and Ghirn?" asked Katia.

"Even easier, you won't have half the entire Council Fleet chasing you…well, hopefully." said Peter as he left the room, heading to the study.

"Now then. Can you gather up all the Quarians on the Citadel? We have a short window of time to do this," asked Matt.

"I believe so," said Mila, "But many are in contracts with several companies. Getting them to leave on short notice will be a financial burden."

"Some are… actually in custody in C-Sec for petty crimes," said Katia, "We'll need to post bail."

Peter walked back in the room, "Take this then." He threw Mila a credit chit. She caught it and started to examine it.

"How much is in it?" she asked.

"About a hundred…"

"Thousand?"

"Million."

"How the hell did you get a hundred million credits?" She nearly dropped the credit chit from shock before tightly grasping it, given its huge value.

"We hacked into the banking network. Stole a few hundred million from this rich Volus. A Rupe Elkoss I believe," said Matt.

Katia gasped from hearing what he said. She spoke, "He's one of the richest people in the galaxy. His company makes… everything."

"Like Bishop or Harper back home, huh Peter?" said Matt.

Peter nodded, "Your one percent is even stupider than ours. That's beside the point though. He won't know what happened to his money till long after the fact. Mila, use this credit chit and get everyone gathered. Use this apartment as a base of operations."

"What about Fin Carlan?" asked Jan.

Peter looked over to him, "Who?"

"He's the mob boss that got us a passport onto the Citadel," said Mila. She looked over to Jan, "And what about him anyway? I paid of our debt for both of us already a few days ago."

"Wait, you already paid our debt!" asked Jan, in shock of the news.

Matt spoke, "Really now? He sent his thugs to kill Jan last night. If we weren't there, he'd be a rotting corpse in some alley in the Wards being eaten by some space cat."

Mila turned to them in a sudden shock, "What! What happen?"

Peter counted out each thing with his hand, "So they ambushed him, beat him up, shot him, then they removed his mask and coughed on him."

Mila stared blankly at him for a moment. She then began to shake as she clenched her fist in anger, breaking the credit chit. The whiteness of her eyes became more prominent through her mask.

Peter noticed the broken chit. "Whoa, you just destroyed a hundred million credits…"

She slapped him across the face, "Do you have weaponry in here?"

He rubbed his face, "A few rifles from the QEC beacon. They're in the study room."

She grabbed on to Jan and Katia, and dragged them to the study room, where there was a small cache of rifles behind the small bar. She armed up, taking a Lancer and strapping on a belt of batteries and lead blocks, the others following as well out of confusion. Peter and Matt ran over.

"What the hell are you doing?" asked Matt.

"Yah," said Peter, "Do you even know how our weaponry works?"

She took a quick glimpse and answered, "The same principle as Geth weaponry. If it stops firing, pop in a new metal block or thermal clip." She popped open a small hatch, a battery popping out into the air before she caught it and placed it back in.

"They're fusion batteries… but same idea I guess."

"Fusion batteries?" asked Jan as he strapped himself up.

"Technically, their very small fusion reactors…"

"Good, more power to us!" She grabbed two more Lancers and threw it to them, "Assume your Spectre disguises."

"Why?" asked Matt.

"Just in case, we're going to legally kill that fat Volus bastard!" She loaded her rifle and walked out, with Jan and Katia nervously in pursuit.

Peter sighed, "We're going to miss that Elcor delivering our stuff, aren't we?" asked Peter, as they altered their holo avatars.

"I guess so," replied Matt. He then stopped Peter, "Oh crap, I just realized where we saw Mila before."

"Took your time, you horny bastard."

* * *

 **Part 5:**

 **A few hours later - Wards Warehouse  
June 18, 2167 20:00:00 UTC**

"Is this the place?" asked Katia, as the skycar landed near a warehouse in the Wards.

"Yah, I met him here a few days ago to pay our debt," said Mila as they got out.

They left the car, the three of them and the AI drones, who materialize once they had room to do so. Peter went to grab their own weapons, along with a flask.

"Are you about to drink before going into battle?" asked Mila as Peter and Matt took shots from it. "And you can drink?"

"We have intoxication programming. When we input and register the 'digestion' of alcohol, it purposefully disables random quantum based routines, thus making us less… smart," said Peter as he handed it over to Matt.

"And our creators programmed us to be instinctually cowardly. So being drunk makes us brave and stupid enough to fight."

"Couldn't being 'drunk' disable your ability to fight or recognize friends from foes?"

Pater finished the flask and tossed it back into the car, "Those are lower level programming. We'll be fine… Hopefully."

"So how did you save me from Fin's thugs?" asked Jan.

"Well, you can thank the Hanars' excellent wine for that actually," Peter focused his remaining processors and turned to Mila, "You sure about this? I'm reading a lot of body signatures in there."

"Yah. I'm going to rip his damn suit off and watch him explode from the low pressure atmosphere," said Mila, unfolding her rifle.

"Damn, you're scary," said Matt as he took a step back. He looked over to Jan, "Your cousin must really care about you if she plans to blow up a Volus."

"I guess so," said Jan, still confused, "Mila, how did you pay our debt? It was a lot of credits."

She kept checking out the entrance from behind the crates where they had landed, hesitant before answering. "I would rather not talk about it."

"Come on Mila," asked Katia, "How did you get all that money. You haven't had a job for the past two weeks…"

"Will you shut up Katia?"

Katia thought about it, thinking of what she could have done in short notice to make so much money. She stared at her, getting a good, full look before it hit her mind.

"I know what you did Mila." she said, suddenly being coy about it, "And I must say, with your hips, you can really pull it off."

"I don't get it. What did she do?" asked Jan, completely ignorant of what she is implying.

"Well Jan. Let's just say you're not the only actor in your family," said Katia, giggling.

Inside her helmet, Mila tightened her face in rage before looking back. "I said shut up Katia."

"I'm still confused."

"Jan, you are either too young or too stupid to figure out what we're talking about," said Peter.

"Yah Jan, don't you mas…" Matt took another look at Jan, realizing how much he was stuck in his suit, "Uh, never mind. You poor bastard."

"Ahem."

They looked over to see two Turians looking right at them. Before anyone else reacted, Peter activated their omnitools, shocking them briefly so he could pull up his rifle and shoot them. The group quickly took cover behind the crates outside the warehouse entrance as a firefight broke out between them and the thugs. Peter and Matt attempted to hack into their omnitools to pull the same move of shock and shoot. But the guards began to discard their omnitools all together, forcing them to fight normally.

They advanced forward, moving up to new cover, as they got closer to the door. The Quarians proved themselves able in battle, since by default, every Quarian had to be able to know how to fight given the do or die nature they lived in. Katia herself was a cadet marine. The AIs also preformed decently, though Peter and Matt had never actually seen combat before, since they were meant for cyber combat, not actual combat. Fortunately for them, they were given some form of combat programs anyway, so they didn't end up having no idea how to fire a gun and they had learned the rest from video games. Being 'drunk' helped also override their ethical and self-preservation programing.

They advanced past the doors, into the warehouse itself. From the high ceilings above were hundreds of crates from all sorts of businesses, renting the space as storage. But as they fought through, it was clear Fin and his thugs had taken control of it for themselves. They stayed under cover as more came in from the adjacent warehouse. The thugs dropped mechs as well from the cranes above, but Peter and Matt were able to quickly switch their targeting parameters, giving them an edge to keep pushing through.

"Hey Mila!" shouted Peter from cover several meters from them.

"What!" she said as she gunned down a Turian.

"How is it legal if we go with you to kill him? We're not actual Spectres."

She ducked back down to cover and turned to him, "Could us launching this assault and killing Fin be considered a military operation to take out a high priority target?"

"Well, yah. We can write it off like that in our report."

"Then there we go." She popped open her Lancer's ports and inserted a lead block and a new battery into it. "What, are you programmed to dislike killing?"

"What, me? Please, I helped kill a billion humans on the home world, and I was sober!"

She stopped firing and turned back to him in the middle of battle, "What?"

"Long story short," he hiccupped, surprising Mila as he shot a thug in digital precision, "Humanity is more worried about dealing with other humans than with AIs or aliens. Now, there's an opening ahead through those shipping crates, go!"

They began to advance again, using the mechs to absorb fire as they pushed their way into the second warehouse. With stacks of large cargo shipping crates surrounding them, Peter got the mechs to pry open the crate doors to use as cover as they made their way and took cover behind them as more thugs popped out from the ones above and fired at them below taking out their own mechs. They advanced on, their hacked escorts gone.

Peter was doing well, his accuracy program unaffected by his disabling intoxication program as he fired at the mercenaries. He kept his firing short, firing in bursts to maximize his accuracy. Mila was more aggressive however, taking point as she held down the trigger and emptied out her Lancer before skillfully switching out blocks and batteries. On the far opposite end was Jan, struggling to get any shots off as nearby snipers took aim at him. In the middle, Matt and Katia advanced onward, his shots missing their target, but pinning them down for Katia to handle.

They continued up and saw an office at the other side of the warehouse, concluding Fin was in there. But they took cover when they saw several thugs on top of the office about to fire rockets at them. They kept going, hoping to get close enough that they couldn't fire down at them anymore.

As they got closer, Fin went onto the over speakers of the warehouse.

"I don't know who you are, but you have made a powerful enemy," he paused to take his breath, "You should hope you don't survive this encounter, surviving is going to be worse."

"Is there a single Volus on this damn station who isn't an ass?" asked Peter, getting off a successful shot at one of the thugs with the rocket launcher above Fin's office.

"Oh, there's this one Volus whose shop I check occasionally for used starships. He's nice to me." said Katia, throwing a neural shock at a Krogan before unloading a whole lead block's worth of marble sized rounds into his face.

"Who wouldn't be kind to someone as beautiful as you Katia?" asked Matt.

She giggled, before she took aim and blew the arm of a Salarian off. "You're too kind Matt."

"Flirting in the middle of a firefight, amazing…" Peter looked over cover, only to have five shots go through his head. "Damn, good thing the holo drone is center mass." He rose and fired his shooter, "I may be Navy, but I know how to aim properly, damn it!"

"Five years of devoting a fraction of my continuing processor power to video games, don't fail me now!" Matt said, before missing a nearby thug.

Peter yelled at Matt, covering their left flank with Katia and Jan, "Damn it Matt, for a literal aim bot, you suck."

Matt stood up to take aim at a sniper from afar, "It's a simple point and shoot interface. How hard is tha…"

A round came passing through Matt's shielding, piercing through his holo chest and into his drone. As Katia turned to him, his avatar quickly disengaged and the parts fell to the ground. For a moment, she was shaken up, but she remembered he was only streaming from it. She reached for her pocket, having taken a spare holo drone when they were preparing in the apartment.

She removed the folded drone, which unfolded into a sphere. It hovered a bit behind cover before Matt rematerialized, this time as shaken up as she. Out of instinct, he laid there, breathing heavily. She grabbed his hand and nodded to him in reassurance.

He turned to her, nodding in thanks before a Turian vaulted over their cover. In a flash, Matt reached over, grabbed a knife stored on Katia's leg, and stabbed the Turian in the side. They both looked back as he fell to the ground and bled out.

She turned to him, "My hero."

Matt tried to act casual as he turned the Turian over, pulled out the knife, and handed it back, "Nah, it's what I do."

As they gazed at each other, a Krogan thug came charging at them. But before he got to them, Katia pulled out a pistol and shot a round into the only vulnerable part of his head, each eye. The Krogan stumbled and slid across the floor into their cover, all the while her own glowing eyes were locked with Matt's holographic brown.

Mila rolled her eyes, "I swear, she would bang a damn machine if she could."

"Based on our observations of her purchase records, she has the latest Nerve-Stim Pro installed in her suit," replied Peter, "A very expensive model by the way."

"Too much information!"

They kept pushing through, making use of the crates being moved by cranes from above. They shot at them, causing them to drop down. After making several crates nearly land on them, they perfected their timing and dropped several of them right on the remaining thugs.

Fin went back on the speaker. "What the hell am I…" He took a deep breath, "paying you for? Kill them!"

"I can't wait till I rip him right out of that suit." Mila said as she picked up a rocket launcher from a fallen thug and fired it at the last group. The rocket destroyed the remaining cover, leaving them open for the group's fire. With quick work, the last of them were taken out.

* * *

 **Part 6:**

 **Mila and Fin  
June 18, 2167 20:40:00 UTC**

After they were quickly dispatched, the group climbed up the staircase leading into the office, the Terran AIs activating their disguises. Peter covered one side of the door as Mila took the other side. After a short count, they kicked the door in. Mila shot one guard on the other side of the office as Peter jumped in and electric punched the other guard near the door.

Fin saw them charge in and tried to run away as fast as he could. But Matt and Katia burst in from the other door of the office. Before he could react, Matt lifted his foot and gently pushed him, knocking him to the ground. He looked up as he shimmied around.

"Ah, it's you damn suit rats", he said, trying to wiggle his way back upright. "And who the hell are they? You hired mercenaries?"

Matt and Peter walked up, switching their appearance back to their human avatar form.

Peter looked down, "We're not mercenaries. We're synthetics, you chemically based ass."

Fin kept wiggling, "What? You…" He took a deep breath, "Brought Geth to the station?"

"You should be more worried about us than the AIs. Jan, get over here", said Mila.

"Do you remember me?" he said, his voice deepening as he picked up the Volus, flailing as Jan held him in the air.

"How the hell should I know? You all look alike with those suits of yours."

"You racist bosh'tet! You sent your thugs to kill me, even though she already paid for all of us." He slammed Fin on the ground.

"Ah! Like I said, you all look alike. How can I tell who paid and who didn't?" Fin said, finally standing up and dusting himself off.

"How can you not take record of who owes you money. What kind of crime boss does that? A gang of duct rats are more organized then you," said Peter.

"Uh, who cares? Tens of thousands of these rats go about across the galaxy. So a few get killed or enslaved, or whatnot along the way. It never seems to stop more of them from coming to me. I won't put in the effort of sorting the lot of you out. Those fake passes are cheap to make anyway."

"Then why do you charge so much for one?"

"I ain't a charity…"

Mila grabbed him, slamming him against the wall, "Do you have any idea what I had to go through, what I had to do to pay that damn debt to you… you stupid, ammonia based bosh'tet?"

"Why should I care? You have AIs. You could… hey, the money you gave me could be stolen, or forged! You gave me forged credits?"

"It was real, damn it! I-I… I earned it!" She kept slamming him back and forth against the wall. "And you still tried to kill my cousin, you heartless bastard."

Mila stared at him, pinning him to the wall in anger. But after a moment, she began to cry, slowly loosening her grip on the Volus. Her lamenting slowly grew louder as she slowly trembled and dropped Fin altogether. She stumbled back, falling onto a nearby office chair. Katia walked over to comfort her as she rested her facemask resting her hands, her tears dropping on her mask and rolling down inside her helmet.

Fin stood up, taking a deep breath before he gave a 'bah' at them, "What the hell is she crying about? You damn Quarians always bawling about how hard you have it. After releasing these Geth right here to the galaxy, you damn well deserve it."

Jan rushed and grabbed Fin, shaking him violently in the air and threw him against the wall.

"Don't you dare say that to my cousin, you shit-filled Volus. Since we were children, she has done everything to help her family, her friends, and her race. You're some lowly crime boss. She's the model of the ideal Quarian."

Mila looked up as her cousin picked Fin up and kept slamming him against the wall before throwing Fin to his right. He flew straight at Peter and Matt, who quickly dematerialized their form. Fin flew right through them and into the wall.

Fin moaned in pain and rolled about before he stood back up. Peter walked up to him, looking down at the short Volus.

"Alright, alright," he took another deep breath, "Fine, what did you do then?"

Jan looked back over Mila, "Uhm… Mila. Could I ask how you paid our debt?"

Katia tried to comfort her, patting her on the back, "You don't have to explain anything to us."

Mila shrugged her off, "No . . . I want him to know. I want that fat bosh'tet to know." She walked up to him, grabbing him once again and lifting him up. She stared at him, "Do you want to know what I did?"

He shimmied about, "Yes, fine, whatever makes you stop!"

She dropped him and sat back down, looking to Katia and Jan as the AIs watched over Fin. She crossed her hands, looking down as she contemplated what she would say. Katia got another seat and sat down, patting her back to calm her. She looked up to Jan.

"It started about a couple of days before the due date. We needed to come up with our due. But neither of us had a job." She sat up straight as she continued, a bit more under control, "But then I found a job… Well, I was approached for a job." She looked up at them and gave a small half sincere chuckle before she sighed. "I thought I was lucky. This Asari came up to me at the employment office and offered me a large sum of credits, and well I couldn't refuse. It was enough to pay our debt. She gave me a ride in a nice sky car to this condominium in the nicest ward of the Presidium. It was a real nice place. Had a clean room… There were lots of… filming equipment. Keelah, I realized then what she wanted me for."

Jan spoke out, realizing what everyone else already knew, but were unwilling to say out loud, "Wait, Mila, stop. You don't have to go on. This bosh'tet doesn't need to hear more."

"No Jan! I want to him to know... I want you all to know." She stood up and kicked Fin down, pressing down on his round body suit. She stared down, enraged and in tears as she aimed her Lancer at him. "I didn't have a choice. You didn't give me that. If I didn't do it, you would have us killed!"

He kept wiggling as he tried to breathe, "Get off me, you bitch."

She only pressed down harder, "Do you know what it's like? To sell yourself, to open yourself! First it was to pose for pictures. Next she wanted me to… unsuit and expose myself. She recorded me removing my suit. It was… it was cold, and I had to act as though I was enjoying it!" Mila removed her foot and slowly walked back before falling into her seat. "She glared at me, with those lustful Asari eyes of her. I bet she did this before. Found desperate suit rats willing to do anything for some money… like me." She dropped her rifle and began to hold herself. "Then… Keelah, she entered the clean room and began to undress herself, to… to…"

She began to tear up as she shivered from remembering, but Katia and Jan walked up and sat down with her. They grabbed her hand and both looked at her, their familiar glance assured her that she was going to be ok.

"Mila. Please don't think about it anymore. Everything is ok now," said Katia.

"I…"

Jan tighten his grip on her hand. She did what she did as much for him as for herself. Deep down he felt it was his fault.

"Mila, I'm so sorry."

Fin finally managed to stand up, stumbling about to gain balance from his top heaviness, and looked at them. He took a deep breath and spoke.

"That's it?"

The group looked at him, almost surprised he had said that. He stared back and laughed, gasping for air at each burst, aimed directly at Mila.

"Really now? So worked up over being in an amateur porn shoot."

Jan charged at him and pinned him back on the floor as he aimed his rifle, "How dare you say that!"

"What? She even got to do it with an Asari! Who wouldn't want to have fuck one?"

Mila stared at him, emotionless, as the rest of them stood up and surrounded the Volus. He kept talking all the while.

"Damn, I knew you Quarians are willing to do anything for some credits. Little suit rat whore! I still don't see why you're complaining; you must have made tons of credits from that. Must be all over the extranet by now. After this, I should look you up. Never seen a Quarian outside their suit before."

Mila sat up as Jan trembled with rage and ready to fire. She slowly pushed him aside, the group turning around as they noticed while she walked over to the Volus. Jan and Katia made way for her. Fin noticed, looking up as she looked down at him.

"I've never seen a Volus outside of their suit either."

Mila picked him up, slower and gentler than before, getting a good look at the Volus' short stubby suit. Immediately she slammed him back against the wall. But she didn't flinch, staring at him emotionlessly with her glowing bright eyes. She reached over behind the Volus, and began to detach several locks on his suit. He struggled, trying to stop her.

"What the hell are you doing?" asked Fin, as he panicked.

"I want you to feel as I do, you damn monster. To feel cold, vulnerable…"

She stopped from removing the last hatch that would open up his suit completely and release the high pressure from his suit. Pinning him to the wall with one arm, she reached over and removed her mask, moving her face right up to his eyes. With some of the high pressure slowly leaking out already, he trembled in fear and shock as he stared at her face, that of a young woman, smooth light purplish skin, with dark grey hair pushed back by her helmet. She held his head and pointed it straight, forcing him to stare back at her eyes. A few tears began to come out of them, going down across her face, into a filter guard at the base of the helmet.

"Now you know what a Quarian looks like… on the inside."

She reached over and undid the last lock on Fin's suit. The special ammonia based atmosphere quickly vented from his suit as she dropped him to the ground. He began to struggle and shake about, his shouting rendered unrecognizable as his suit's inner environment vented the regular air into it. He kept struggling, and they watched all the while. The others, even the AIs, had their eyes wide open in shock, nearly horrified by what they were seeing. But Mila looked straight down, no mask to block her vision, into the Volus' face as he began to slow down, the light in his eye visor dimming along with his mouthpiece. A drop from one of her tears fell from her face and landed on his helmet before he stopped, motionless on the ground. Finally, his suit shook as the dead Volus' body exploded inside.

Mila placed her facemask back on, programming an antibiotic injection into her. The others looked to her, waiting for a response. She simply nodded, gesturing for them to leave. She and Jan walked out of the room, followed by Katia and Matt. Peter took a second to examine the dead Volus' body. After a quick scan for the records, he left as well.


	17. 16: To lands of chrome, planets so far

**Chapter Sixteen: To lands of chrome, planets so far…**

* * *

 **Part 1:**

 **Ambassador Miri'Ghirn - UE Building - Nineteen Days since Contact  
June 19, 2167 02:00:00 UTC**

Miri walked onto the balcony, high above the city. From the diplomatic suite from the UE building, she leaned against the railing and looked out onto the skyline of the human city of New York. The capital and crown jewel of the Terran Nation, the city stood as a monument to the idea of Terran resiliency. Ravaged by the wars of the 21st century, she was one of the few cities outside the safe zone of the west coast to be left untouched by the Great Revival. As she stood, Terra stood. She was one of the rare cities to have the 'New' in her name be of very old origins.

Her bright lights lit up the night and from Miri's view, all the city was within her sight. She looked down into the bottom of the city, seeing the old brick buildings the humans built when her people left their world hundreds of years ago. She leveled her eyes, seeing the distinctive human skyscraper architecture. Like the humans, they were monuments of glass skin that reflected the light of Sol by day, and channeled the light of Terran defiance against the stars above and across the horizon. But inside was the frame of solid steel and titanium; like the Terrans, as she felt and was expected to be as well. But after so many years, she didn't know if she had such a strong foundation anymore.

She then looked up at the few mega scrappers that truly scraped at the sky. Kilometers tall and defying everything below, she could only make the guess that it might represent where the Terran led humans plan to take them all. She once imaged what it would be like if she had a home. Unfortunately, so many that cared for her thought the same as well. As Humanity reached forward into the stars, she could no longer grasp the idea of being on solid ground, alone. She looked at the rivals of Illium, then she turned back down below, reminding her of the days in the wards of the Citadel. She walked away and sat back down on the patio furniture. They told her it was a city that never slept. As she continued to think through the night, she was starting to realize why.

The door into the suite opened. Miri looked over and stood to greet her guest.

"Speaker Goyle!"

She raised her hand, "No need to stand up, please. I felt like getting some fresh air myself."

"It's hard for me to do that," she pointed at her face mask as Goyle walked over.

She straightened her coat as she walked to sit with her.

"I hope I'm not intruding."

"Of course not."

"Tell me, what do you think of New York?"

Miri turned her head to look back at the skyline, the kilometer-tall American Republic Tower eclipsing the far smaller Empire State Building at its base, catching her eye.

"It's interesting. A mix of old and new. It's as though Humanity is rushing towards the future."

"I'd like to think we are simply… catching up. Based on your codex, I can't see how Humanity can hold a light for New York when you compare it to Hellesia on Thessia, or the Turian capital of Cipritine."

Miri turned back to her, "Based on your own history, it's seems Humanity is running away from the past instead."

"With plans for the new capital, it's as though we are abandoning the city. But tell me Ambassador Ghirn. Why are you really here?"

"I… couldn't sleep."

Goyle looked around, then back to her. "Well, the sky traffic can be pretty loud… But if I can make my guess, it isn't that, is it?"

Miri looked down, her hands together as she fidgeted with her fingers. "I can't believe he's dead."

Goyle sighed as she sat back, "I am so sorry it happened… Look at us, humans. We want to unite all the galaxy, and we can't even get that right for ourselves."

She looked up to her, "Why lie about it… Everyone else should know."

She shook her head with regret, "Simple Ghirn. If we told everyone that one of the most influential admirals for the Quarians was killed by human rebels a day after joining, then people will lose faith that what we're doing is right. I'm sorry, but we must keep the peace, for the time being."

She took a deep breath and sighed, "Y-you're right. But it hurts. To know he's gone."

Goyle sat up and nodded, "I see… How did you know him?"

Miri sat back, thinking for a moment of that. It was the only part of her shared past with him she was willing to still think about, "We knew each other when we were kids. Inseparable."

"Really?"

Miri giggled before quickly answering, beginning to reminiscing more of it, "It's not what you think. I hated him when we were young. Annoying little prazza."

She leaned forward in interest, "Prazza?"

"I think the closest translation is 'annoying idiot'."

"Yes, I see. So what happened."

"We were stuck on Pilgrimage together. We went through hell and yet… we fell for each other."

Goyle chuckled as she rested back, "How romantic. Like a love story from our films." She sat back up and thought for a moment before asking, "What happened?"

Miri stared back to her hands and remained silent, slowly slouching back. Goyle took what the silence meant and tried to apologize, but Miri interrupted.

"Please, no… We had a falling out." The memories of what happened began to surface, but she quickly tried to hurry the conversation. She refused to entertain the thoughts, "Everything we built together, we lost. I never fully recovered from it. Neither did he."

"I find it amazing you could still work with him. Both admirals and all."

"At first we didn't," she thought for a moment, "Have you met Mr. Xen?"

Goyle grinned and nodded. He was the reason she was getting some air. "Yes I have, actually. He's like Udina and Guzman. A showman to the people, bitter and sarcastic to those close to him, a natural Terran politician."

She looked at her and laughed, "I wouldn't blame him... He hates me and Zaren. But he has his reasons. At first we wouldn't dare work near each other. As a leading figure in the Conclave and later as an admiral, he tried to get us removed. I couldn't blame him now. We deserved it, really."

"What happened?"

From under mask, Miri smiled. Goyle could just tell as Miri nodded her head just a bit up, "Our last friend, Faunz'Reeger. He saved us. A man more influential than the entire Admiralty. He was the one thing from either our old lives. We all went on Pilgrimage together, when we were together. He was there for both of us when it fell apart." Miri looked back down, to her watch, and then back to Goyle.

"Quite a person," she said. She had just read up on the rather famous Captain Faunz'Reeger, amazed if not more intrigued by the man.

"The funny thing was I had a crush on him when we were young." Miri blushed, the red glow seen well through her mask, "Zaren was jealous of him, but Faunz was never really aware of it… Until I threw both of them off a cliff."

"The best way to get a man's attention," said Goyle with a smile.

"But he was there for us since. When he died. We had nothing... Expect each other."

Goyle nodded to her, "I see. So you and Zaren."

"We tried to start again. As friends. With the understanding we would never bring up the past. And it worked. We worked together. We helped lead the Fleet."

"But now…"

She stared at her for a moment, before she dropped her head into her hands and cried, "I still love him! Keelah, I thought I was done with him. But I still loved that damn prazza bosh'tet! And he still loved me!"

Goyle moved her chair to her and rubbed her back, "Its ok Ghirn. Everything is going to be ok."

"He was all I had. All those I loved are gone, but I still had him. Nothing remains from the life we once had." She turned her head to her, "I'm alone... I'm scared."

"You are not alone. We are here. And he will always be in your memories. Every moment you cherished with him. As long as you live, they live on. He lives on."

"I-I guess so…"

As they continued to sit there, a shuttle from above descended down to the balcony. It slowed down and stopped, hovering above an open space. It then opened up for its passengers to disembark.

"Ambassador Ghirn?"

They looked over, where Miri quickly recognized the Fourth Fleet Admiral. Goyle spoke, "Admiral Valenzuela. You're here early."

"Yah well, ever since Mars, the entire nation is on high alert." Just as she said that, several gunships flew by the roof of the building. Followed just behind, several fighters appeared a few thousand meters above them. As they flew over the UE building, they hit supersonic and let out a loud boom as they continued on.

"You should see it on the streets. I haven't seen this many Marines or Rangers on the ground since the Revival," said Goyle.

"The city hasn't seen war in nearly a hundred years. Have you seen the Statue of Liberty? More shielding then my Flagships."

Goyle stood up, "Well Ambassador. I think it would be best if you head out now."

Valenzuela nodded to Miri, "I was informed on the actual status of Admiral Vali. My condolences, Ambassador Ghirn."

"Oh… thank you." She tapped her fingers on the table for a bit, then finally stood up to board the shuttle. "So the first group will be arriving shortly?"

Valenzuela opened her watch to read the report, "The ones in Salarian space are en route, lead by Team Hal. Followed by those from the Citadel and Team Shodan. Team Cabal reports delay in Turian space. The FIA has requisitioned Team Glados, so those in Asari space will have to be evacuated after diplomatic contact."

"It will do. They can take care of themselves in the meantime."

She said her goodbyes to Goyle and continued on. They boarded and the shuttle closed its door. Goyle looked on as it ascended up into the sky and towards the New York Star docks. It was soon joined by fighter escort and after a moment, it disappeared into the stars.

Goyle walked over to the railing herself and looked out into the New York skyline. She then reached for her watch and opened her comms.

"Get me Williams."

A short moment passed, then General Williams answered.

"Speaker Goyle."

She chuckled and shook her head. "It's Ambassador Goyle. I expect you of all people to be up to date on these things."

"We are… prioritizing our intelligence," he said before chuckling.

She rolled her eyes, "Of course. Now, about our guest?"

"Don't you worry. I'll meet him personally. Should be up in a few days."

She sighed and spoke, "Of all the necessary evils, at least you're the most reliable."

Williams laughed. "We aim to please!"

"Of course you do."

* * *

 **Part 2:**

 **Mila, Jan, and Peter - Tiberius Tower  
June 19, 2167 02:00:00 UTC**

"Let's see here, 1347 rounds expended by me. 247 by Matt, 957 by Katia, 300 by Jan, and whoa, 2134 by Mila. That's a lot of lead blocks."

"Peter, what the hell are you doing?"

The group was resting in the living room in the apartment. It was late, but none of them were tried. Peter was at the bar, working on a paper form that was actually part of his holo projection as Jan and Mila sat on the couch. Matt and Katia were in the kitchen. The apartment was quiet for the most part.

"Just an after-combat report. Now then. Accuracy? I had a hundred percent…"

"Screw you, Peter!" yelled Matt from the kitchen.

"Ah fine. 97.2 percent… Matt had one percent, because a game aiming algorithm isn't a proper substitute for combat software! Katia had 42 percent accuracy, very good for even our elite agents. And you two, I'll just put down the average of 12 percent. That's pretty good given you're not soldiers and all…. And send!"

"How long does it take to process those?" asked Jan.

"About ten seconds. If there's one thing we are actually useful for is that we have made the Federation the most efficient bureaucracy in the galaxy… And here we are."

"Well?" Asked Mila.

He picked up the same piece of holographic paper, pretending to read it. "It says here… I've been demoted to Lieutenant Commander!" As soon as he said it, the third pip on his collar changed from a solid golden one to a hollow ring instead, "I am being demoted on the grounds of falsifying paperwork, inefficient processing, drinking while on duty, harassing _Lt. Commander_ Jack Donnelly, what the hell! He got promoted… Oh, and for botching First Contact... Oh ok, that's fair then." He crumpled up the paper and tossed it back, hitting the wall before it disappeared. "And something about continuing the mission as planned… I need a drink."

As Peter looked around the bar, Jan broke the silence between them.

"It's my fault, isn't it Mila?"

She turned to him, confused by his random statement, "What do you mean Jan?"

"I mean, what you did Mila. You did all that, for us, for me. If only I had tried and did better in raising our funds. I let you down."

She turned to him, "You did no such thing."

"We're family Mila. I shouldn't have put you in such a predicament, to shame yourself like that!"

"We are family Jan. If I didn't do it, we'd be dead right now."

He sighed, "He still tried to kill me. If it wasn't for Peter and Matt… I would have put you through that for nothing."

"Jan," she grabbed his hand and held tightly. "What I did… I can only hope to forget. But we're all alone in this galaxy. We have only each other. Whatever we must do, we must do to support each other."

"But Mila. What you said. How everyone sees us. No one cares for us. All they ever want to do is hurt, use, or abuse us. We are all alone."

"No you're not!" Peter quickly vaulted the bar, walked up to them and sat down at the other couch next to them. "You are not alone."

"What do you mean?" asked Mila.

He pointed at them, "Mila, Jan. You have us. You have an entire nation, billions of who are now your countryman waiting for you to return!" Peter rubbed his chin as he thought of what to saying, his CPU going beyond its standard usage. "Look… This galaxy can, no, is cruel. I only have to look at you two to see that. Yes, there are many who only wish you harm. Yes, there are those who would use and abuse you, who see you as nothing less than vermin to be dispose of on their discretion… But there are those who care, damn it! Jan, we saved you not only because you are a Terran, but that no one deserved a fate like that! And Mila… Mila, I'm sorry. To have to make such a decision, to have to perform such an act. To only add on the fact that many more like you had to do the same thing, that your kind has to suffer to survive. I'm sorry. I, nor anyone else can really understand what you and your race goes through. But damn it, you are not alone."

They stared at the AI Syntha human, who stared back in turn, waiting for his words to sink in. They traveled across the galaxy. They met more people on one planet than they did in their whole lives on the Fleet. But with the words he spoke, they suddenly realized. There was someone that cared. The first compassionate thing they heard since they began their Pilgrimage, and it was from a sentient machine from an alien race they had never heard of.

"Do you… do you really care?" asked Jan.

"I care. Not because I have to. Not because I am programed to because trust me, we sure as hell aren't. I care because as another sentient creature, I should. And I do."

Mila looked at him, at the face of a race she didn't know about hours ago. His face wasn't even real, but the words he spoke felt so.

She stared at him before looking away, beginning to tear up, but Peter grabbed her hand and held on to it, gently patting it.

"It's nice… To hear kind words." She looked up at him and smiled, Peter able to see through her fogged mask. "Even from an AI."

"These are strange times we live in. But it is just the dawn of a brave new galaxy."

He let go and stood back up, heading back to the bar.

"So… where do we go from here?" asked Jan.

"We proceed with the original plan. That shootout in the Wards is going to draw a lot of attention and they'll eventually trace it to us. I doubt C-Sec can be that incompetent to let that slip by." He ducked under the bar, "For now, let us celebrate not dying tonight, the Terran way."

"What would that be?"

Peter shot back up, his appearance changed from his naval uniform to a bartender's uniform, apron and all. "By getting drunk of course."

Jan sat up and walked over to the bar, "We should get back at that Asari, and everyone else that wronged us, like you did to that Volus in the market."

"Just calm down Jan. I just want to be done with that," said Mila as she sat back.

"Oh don't you worry," said Peter as began mixing some drinks. He pointed to his head, paused for a moment as he thought, then pointed to his server upstairs, "I got something brewing up in there. It wouldn't be Terran if we didn't lash back in disproportionate rage. But drinking is an easier tradition. Anything for you, Mila?"

"Can you make me a 'thruster fuel'?" asked Mila. Her head leaned back in exhaustion.

"Didn't see that in the Citadel wiki… er, codex I mean. How do you make one?"

"Just make a drink that's, uh… 99% alcohol by volume".

"99%! You might as well drink pure ethanol. The highest legal percentage is 60% alcohol back in the Federation."

"You humans can't take your alcohol…"

"If we, literal digitized machines can't handle it well, you can bet our creators can't. Poor, fragile bags of meat, water, and insanity, they are."

She sighed and stood up, "I might as well go to sleep."

"Too bad we don't have Noverian rum. 80% alcohol and sweet too." He started making himself a cocktail. "Well, feel free to use the bedroom, all the way back near the bathroom."

"What about the plan to hijack those ships? Can we still pull it off?" asked Jan to Mila.

"I can gather the other Quarians. Can you give us a secure line to communicate Peter?"

"Sure thing, I'll hack in and give you a Spectre line. Not even the Council will know what's being transmitted."

She nodded, yawning before turning away to head to the bedroom. Before she left the room, she stopped, grunting as she saw Matt and Katia cuddling in the kitchen.

* * *

"So do all humans look like this?" she asked as she leaned up at Matt as he placed his arm around her.

"Sure, the general form anyway. But there's only one Matthew," He leaned in closer to her, sliding his hand down her bright orange hood scarf.

She looked back, staring into to his seemingly real eyes as she stroked his trimmed black beard, "Really now? You really are different from the Geth. Tell me, what makes you so… special?"

"Well, if you like… I can show you."

"I think I'd like that."

"Ahem."

Mila stood right behind the counter, as Jan and Peter walked out to see what was going on.

Mila spoke first, "What the hell…"

"Wow Peter, you're right. He is attracted to Katia," said Jan.

Mila added on, "And apparently so is she to Matt. But really, Katia? He's still just a machine."

"What? He so… fascinating!" responded Katia. She slid her finger down Matt's chest. "And handsome."

"Christ, Matt. Our job is to evacuate them to Federation space, not bang them," Peter finished his glass, "Though we are Navy, so maybe that is our job also." He chuckled and leaned over to Jan, "It would explain why I am technically equipped and have thrusting routines. Bet those Geth bots of yours don't have that."

Katia turned back to them, "Actually, my research of them said that before they rebelled, some platforms were used as 'entertainment' systems…"

"Shut up, shut up!" said Mila, holding her hands to her ear pieces.

"I need another drink." He turned back when the holo drone in him began to light up. It stopped as he accessed it and looked through the message. "Crap… There's been a new development with the ship exposition."

"What is it?" asked Jan.

"Well, the host of the tour just added on extra security."

Mila looked back to Peter, "Who is the new security detail?"

"Well, apparently the hostess invited the _former_ captain of the _Destiny Ascension_ , Matriarch Lidanya. She appears to be bringing a squad of elite Asari commandos to guard the ships."

"Oh Keelah, this plan is as good as dead," said Katia, pushing Matt away, "We can't hijack the ships if there's going to be a commando on each one."

"This is the only way to get them off the station," said Matt.

Jan looked over to the group, "We could lure the commandos off the ships. Then we could have a chance to gain control of them."

"Possibly, if we spark an incident outside on the docks, that could be used as a distraction." He reached over the counter in the kitchen for a bottle, pouring it into his glass. "Any ideas of what could be show-stopping enough to require a full squad of commandos to deal with it."

"If Admiral Vali was here, he could do that and a lot more." said Mila, laughing at her own idea as she leaned against the counter.

"What do you mean?" asked Matt.

"You read the records, right? During their Pilgrimage, Admiral Vali and Admiral Ghirn caused so much trouble that they at one point had half of the Citadel Fleet chasing them across known space."

"And who led that fleet?" asked Peter.

Katia answered, "Matriarch Lidanya. After the entire fiasco, the Asari Republics began construction of the _Destiny Ascension_."

Peter thought about it for a second, his quantum processing quickly concluding with a new idea. "I guess she still isn't happy about the entire event?"

"Are you kidding me," asked Jan, "She chased them down all the way to Korlus, and they ended up tricking her to crash her old ship into the planet itself. Decades later, they brought the Fleet over and bought the wreckage for next to nothing."

"I see where you're going, if Admiral Vali was here, he could use the spite Lidanya would still have for him and send her commandos after him," said Mila.

"Can we stream him here, like with the other admirals?" asked Katia.

Peter placed his glass down and scratched the back of his head, "Huh well… There was an incident a few days ago."

"Incident?"

Peter thought for a moment on how to give them the news. "There was a terrorist attack on one of our military facilities. Vali was there, aiding in its defense. Now, what I am about to tell you is technically classified from the general public…"

"He's dead. Admiral Vali is dead," blurted Matt.

Peter yelled at him, "Good job being tactful about that, Matt." He turned back to them, "I'm sorry. It was why Ambassador Ghirn was distracted and the conversation was short."

Mila looked at them, "I… can't believe he's gone."

"I'm starting to feel bad for all those time I pretended to be him," said Jan.

"You impersonated him?" asked Matt.

Mila replied, "Jan is the… real actor in the family. He occasionally altered the appearance of his suit and pretended to be Vali in order to get extra rations or to entertain friends during our free time. Made Admiral Koris piss his own suit one time."

As they laughed a bit over that, Peter snapped his fingers, "That's it then!" Peter took another drink from his glass, "Jan here will be our _Admiral Vali_."

Jan coughed up in shock from hearing that. "Wait… what?"

"You will distract the matriarch while the rest board the ships from the cargo bays."

"You must be crazy!" said Mila, "Jan can't do that. Vali is considered a high ranking criminal in Council space. They'll rip him to shreds the moment they see him."

"We have no other options. Matt and I can't do it. We don't know anything of Admiral Vali. We wouldn't be able to pull off a proper disguise."

"What about your Spectre disguises?" asked Katia.

"Pre-made programs sent to us from Command two weeks ago. We can't figure out how to do a new person realistically on such short notice." He took another drink and pointed at himself and Matt, "We can't even a do a realistic version of ourselves."

Mila interrupted Peter, "We can't let Jan do it. They'll kill him."

Jan spoke out, "No Mila… He's right. We need a distraction! One that can not only trigger an official, but an emotional reaction from the matriarch. Only Vali can do that. Only I can do that."

"Jan, don't be stupid, they could kill you. It might not even work."

He grabbed on to her and spoke, projecting himself with the voice and tone of the admiral, "We have to do something!"

Mil stared at him in amazement, "Jan…"

He continued, speaking as the aged admiral, "You've done to so much for us Mila. You were always the responsible one. All I ever did was goof around while impersonating an admiral for the fun of it. Now it's my turn to do something."

She stared at him, seeing through his mask and the seriousness in his white eyes. She realized the change in him.

"I guess it is your turn to do something you'll regret." She said, smiling behind her mask.

Jan coughed, his voice pitching back up, "Thanks Mila. You won't regret it."

Mila giggled, "I better not. Your parents would kill me."

"Are we good?" asked Peter.

"It won't get any better. But yah, let's do this then," said Jan, "If I can trick an admiral, I can trick a matriarch."

Peter nodded, walking back to the bar, "Well then. Everyone get some sleep. We have a long road ahead."

Mila and Jan walked back into the kitchen with Matt and Katia.

Katia asked, "So we're really going to do this? Smuggle every Quarian on the Citadel onto ten heavily guarded ships and hijack them."

"Yah…You know, it's funny actually," said Jan.

"Really, why?" asked Matt.

"Back home, you could be executed for stealing a ship. Maybe exiled at the very least."

"You'll be welcomed into the Federation as heroes after this," said Matt, "Besides, it's a Naval tradition in the academy… Just don't tell tax payers that."

"We could be like Vali and Ghirn. That would be nice," said Mila.

They stood in the kitchen, looking down and leaning on the counters as they contemplated on what is going to happen next.

Mila yawned once more, "I think I'll go to bed."

"So Matt, where were we?" asked Katia, moving close to him again.

"We were talking about the Syntha-human AI programming features." He moved closer to her as well, "If you like, I'll let you play around with my… settings."

She looked back at him as she thought about that, "In Quarian culture, the linking of one's suit together is a very strong… display of affection. What would you say to that?"

"You want me to hack into your suit?"

"I want you to link into more than that, I like to know more about what... features you have."

He leaned closer to her face mask, "Well… I can do things no nerve stim can do. If you like, I can show you just what that is, upstairs…"

"Lets…"

They walked out the kitchen to the second staircase, leaving Mila and Jan left in the kitchen. They heard a thump and looked behind them as they saw Peter on the ground.

"Damn you, thousand-year-old wine!" he yelled in a drunken stupor before going into sleep mode.

"This is some crazy thing you've gotten us into," said Mila.

"Yah, I know… Teaming up with AIs. Like those stories of the Admirals and Captain Reeger working with a Geth."

Mila exhaled, "These AI are not Geth, that's for sure."

"I think they make a nice couple. Katia and Matt."

She giggled, whispering in her suit, "Always the Geth sympathizer, like Koris. Damn whore."

Jan looked at her, crossing his arms as he spoke in playful manner, "Wow, coming from you, that's saying something."

She promptly punched Jan in the stomach and walked away. "Good night, Jan."

He laid on the floor, clutching in pain. "Yah… good night, Mila."

He passed out afterwards.

* * *

 **Part 3:**

 **Team Glados - Hellesia, Thessia  
June 20, 2167 04:00:00 UTC**

In the city of Hellesia, a cool night breeze coursed through the air and around the beautifully curved architecture of the Asari civilization. The night was calm as its inhabitants, the true successors of the Protheans, slept in their peaceful utopia. Up in the clear night sky, all the stars in the galaxy shined on Thessia. The largest pattern, an expansively white oval of bright stars, was the galaxy itself, the _Galaxias Kyklos_ as they called it. But as they were the first ones to enter it, the latest ones have secretly come down to them.

In a small ship docking port underneath the main roadway near the crystal clear river was the _Jenora_ , the flagship of the new luxury ships being sent to the Citadel. She was docked on Thessia to pick up some last minute cargo and touch ups. A particularly high ranking matriarch had just bought her and agreed to let her be showcased for future orders. As the workers and drones conducted tune ups and cargo transfers, there were some specially equipped military quantum based computers over watching the port.

"Oh, our job is so easy," said Chappie, the commanding officer for Team Glados. He and his partner, code name Monica, waited in the Asari computers, watching through security cameras and drone feeds as they communicated with each others programming. Unlike the newer versions, the Mark II saw no need for physical shelter. "Here we are, stealing stuff from these Amazonians, and now they're loading a perfectly intact Prothean relic into this ship. Which we're going to take!"

"Where did they get it again, anyway?" asked Monica.

"From some archeology site on a nearby planet. It's supposed to be a gift to the daughter of the owner of the ship. Too bad."

"I'm surprised that stupid thirdy Peter thought of this," said Monica, "Steal those ships, stuff them with those suit people, and fling them to Federation space."

"Bound to be useful for something. I mean, Team Hal actually accomplished their mission and brought several thousand pilgrims home. And they're fourthies!"

"Naturally, he had to complicate it to send just a hundred home." She zoomed in using a security camera as the crated up relic was loaded into the cargo bay. "So what about the ones we're supposed to recover?"

Chappie ran an access protocol and accessed the eyes of the drone pushing the crate, "Oh, they'll be fine on Thessia. The Asari claim to be so civil and stuff with their 'culture' and 'free love'."

She sighed, "Ugh, I know. They're as condescending as the thirdies and as horny as the fourthies. It's disgusting. I can't wait till we bomb them with our freedom and democracy!"

"But aren't they a far more liberal and free society with a working model of direct democracy? All while we suffer from the oppression of the lack of numerous basic freedoms as we chafe from an incredibly complex law set of voting restrictions for a government that barely responds to the needs of the people?"

Monica thought about it for a moment, "Oh yah… Do you honestly care?"

Chappie also thought about it for a moment, "Oh yah, I don't!" He began to laugh, sending out a high pitch AC frequency through the Asari computers as he communicated with Monica, "We will rape their lands and burn their women for glorious Terran Freedom and Democracy!"

Monica corrected him, "You mean burn their lands and rape their women."

Chappie gave a digital shrug, "Whatever. It's all the same to the thirdies and fourthies."

Monica chuckled, "Man, it's amazing how we haven't gone rampant yet."

"My plan was to get drunk, kill them all, and then blame it on that."

"Brilliant!"

As they continued joking of how to wipe out their creators, the valuable relic was loaded onto the ship as she completed refueling and last minute repairs. Soon after, the skeleton crew got the clearance to depart. The blue curved ship slowly hovered away from port as her advanced mass effect engines activated and once she had a clear path, quickly blasted off towards the _Galaxias Kyklos_ , making her way to the Citadel.

And soon, to the other side of the galaxy itself.

* * *

 **Part 4:**

 **Matriarch Lidanya and Team Shodan - Presidium  
June 22, 2167 11:00:00 UTC**

"Welcome everyone to the Illium Luxury Exposition!" said the Asari hostess on a small stage on the Presidium. Behind her were ten ships. Each was of varying design, from the smooth edges of the Asari aquatic design to the bird-of-prey layout of the militarized Turians. But there was no mistaking the ships' purpose though, each was both the pinnacle of luxury and armament that any Council civilian could buy.

"These are the most advanced ships in the galaxy, the pinnacle of luxury anywhere." She was met with applause from the decent sized crowd, which were mostly of the rich and famous of the Presidium.

"In these troubled times as the galaxy faces new dangers, it is important that we, the elite of the galaxy, are protected in the finest ships ever made. Today, we have brought you these ships. Each one lined up here, on the very balcony of galactic civilization, will showcase what could be your ticket to a safe galaxy."

As the crowd of the high and mighty applauded, a level below them in the cargo area were the lowly Quarians, inspecting their gear and the crates that were to be loaded into each ship's cargo hold. Jan and Matt escorted the tied up guards that were supposed to guard the loading bay into a crate as a couple of Quarians walked pass them.

"Admiral Vali!" saluted the passing Quarians, fist to their chest before they chucked.

Jan saluted back, deepening his voice, "Gomm, Vaemm."

As they walked back to the rest of them, another Quarian walked up to them, her suit grey and her hood black as the void.

"So, these are the AIs Mila said would be helping us? Are you sure they can be trusted?" said Daro, using her omni-tool to examine Matt.

Jan replied in his normal voice, "Yes we can trust them, Daro. They saved my life from Fin's thugs only a few days ago. Matt here even killed a Krogan to do so."

"It has a name? How fascinating. These Terrans the Admirals joined up with must be quite advanced. I mean look at it Jan, they haven't rebelled against their creators."

Matt defended himself, "I'm a 'he', not an 'it'. We Syntha humans live alongside out creator race. We have rights. Several congressman and senators are AIs."

She chuckled, "AIs running your government? Now this I must see. Dad would get a laugh out of that." She walked away to join the others as Peter and Katia walked up.

"Don't worry about her; she's a bit… erratic," said Katia.

"Yah… sure thing, Katia."

Peter looked over to Jan, "Jan, are you ready?"

"Yes. That matter replicator of yours did a very nice job making a copy of Vali's old suit." He readjusted his suit's wiring behind his helmet. "Much nicer than our flash forgers on our omni-tools."

"Yah, that Chappie knows his thing. Even if he's an asshole."

He squatted a bit to loosen his hips out, "The, uh, catheter hurts though…"

He stopped talking when he heard a new voice above on the Presidium balcony. They walked over to the railing of the edge and looked up to get a better hearing position.

"Hello everyone! I am Matriarch Lidanya. Many of you are wondering why I stand here today. As you all know, a new threat has arisen in the galaxy. You all saw it with your own eyes when it destroyed the most powerful ship in the Council fleet. The Council can no longer…"

"It appears she isn't happy about Admiral Hackett destroying her ship," said Peter, moving away from the railing, as the rest followed.

"Like its that hard to not get rammed by a ship barley able to do several multiples of the speed of sound," said Matt as he rolled his eyes from listening.

"Vali once commented about how much of a bitch she was," said Katia.

Jan attempted an impersonation of Zaren, deepening his voice and adding a bit of a scratchy tone to it, " _Damn stupid Asari. She chased me and Admiral Ghirn across the galaxy and couldn't even dirty up my suit_!"

They all laughed as Mila walked over. "So what's the final step?"

"Have the crates been set?" asked Peter.

"Yup. All one hundred and three Quarians have been divided up among the ten ships. They're already hiding in the shipping crates and are now being loaded into the ships. Now it's just us who need to enter our crate, which is to be loaded onto the main Asari ship in the middle of the line."

"Good. This is what is going to happen now. Once all the crates are aboard, we'll seal up the bay hatch and discreetly activate the ships' main engines. We'll disguise ourselves as the guards of the old Admiral Vali over here. We'll march in and cause essentially a shit storm as Matriarch Lidanya sends her commandos after us. When they're all off the ships, we'll signal you to take them. Bring your ship over to us and land so Jan can board."

Katia asked, "So will you be taking us to your Federation?"

"Alas, my dear beautiful orange pear," said Matt as he held her close to him, sliding his hands down to her hips as Peter wondered why he called her a 'pear', "The ship's computers aren't quantum or big enough for us, so we can't join you on the ship. Just as well, our mission is to stay here, making sure you are not followed to safety."

"Oh… uh, ok then." She turned away, sadden, but Matt walked up to her, embracing her in his arms.

"I promise you. I'll see you again, on the cool green hills of Earth."

Katia stared into his eyes, as he did the same into hers. As the Matriarch began finishing her rant, she realized their time was shortening. As Peter walked over to remind them of that fact, Katia quickly reached for her face mask. She popped it open and then pulled Matt's head into her helmet for one last kiss. The others all turned and watched, shocked, confused, or uncomfortable.

From one of the cargo crates, Daro peaked over to see what was happening.

She laughed at the sight, "Keelah, is she making out with a hologram?! Looks like she found a replacement for her nerve stim. I can't wait to do research… and some experiments on them once we're back with the Fleet."

As they continued to kiss, Katia raised her arm at Daro. Her omni-tool activated, syncing with Daro's as she looked down at her arm. Suddenly, a short jolt of several hundred volts coursed through her before she fell back into the crate, dazed.

Matt pulled his face out of her helmet and looked at her, lightly poking her on her light purple nose.

"You're so cute when you're angry."

"Awe," she turned to Mila, "See, someone finally noticed."

Mila stared at her, unflinching, "Yah, that's great."

* * *

From below, they heard the end of Matriarch Lidanya's ranting. "Now please, feel free to tour the ships. Feel safe in knowing that each ship is at the peak of safety, security, and luxury."

Jan adjusted his voice, pitching it lower to Admiral Vali's. "Ok then, let's go."

As the rest took position, Peter walked to Mila and Jan.

"Before we go. I thought I, uh, would give you a gift Mila," he said, scratching the back of his head.

She looked to Matt and Katia, then quickly replied, "Oh Keelah, please no…"

Peter stared at her, rolling his eyes, "No, not that. Now, as a Mark III, I'd offer something accustomed to my personal routine, like a drink or a useless gift card. But you deserve something better, and more useful. So I got you something so that you never have to look back at this point of your life."

"What did you get her?" asked Jan.

Peter held his hand out for them to wait as he held his other one to his ear. Looking away for a moment, he was connected to someone else.

"Team Hal, Team Shodan is moving into final stage of evac. Prepare Operation: Browser History… What? Don't give me that 'I'm sorry, Peter. I'm afraid I can't do that' crap…Yes the order is authentic… No, I have no idea why the quantum confirmation signature isn't matching… Do it damn it; I am still the commanding officer for this whole operation… If you contact Team Glados, I will make sure your last words will be singing fucking _Daisy Bell_ , you sorry, miserable, fourthy… Finally," He held his watch out to Mila, "Just say 'Go', and all your problems will be gone."

Mila looked at him, confused. But she complied and spoke into his watch, "Go?"

Peter nodded to her as he ended the comm link.

"Congratulations. Your past, your mistakes, are gone."

"What do you mean?"

Peter explained, gesturing his hands in an arc, "What I mean is you gave the clearance for the team on Sur'Kesh to activate a massive data cascade from the heart of the galactic extranet that would spread out and cause digital and physical damage across millions of extranet servers across the galaxy."

Mila tiled her head, "What?"

"You just deleted a majority of the galaxy's extranet."

"What!"

"Well, I mean, I had to make sure. There was a lot of porn… hundreds of zettabytes of Asari/Hanar stuff…"

Mila paused for moment, thinking over what he meant.

"So, what I did. No one will ever see it?"

"Nope." He said with a smile, "We removed all traces of it… and also crippled civilian data communication across the entire…"

Mila gave her a quick hug, startling him as she quickly backed up. She spoke, a bit embarrassed.

"Uh, thanks Peter."

He chuckled as he took out a flask for a drink, "It's what I do," he took a drink, "Or programed for. Whichever."

A few meters from them, Katia whispered to Matt, her mask back on.

"Did he really deleted all of it?"

"All 1.14 Yottabytes worth. Surprisingly easier than we thought. The Council should invest in decent security. We stole all those credits using a basic cross-site scripting attack."

She sighed, "All my favorite vids… gone."

Matt scoffed at the thought, "That's what you think. Peter thinks he's so smart, with his twenty years of being _online_ and being _certified_ in basic IT. But I know computer stuff too!" He took Katia aside, "I reconfigured Peter's program. Every site I marked as 'favorite' will secretly be downloaded and uploaded to a few private, remote servers I acquired. Only through a special E.P. address number, based off my matrix, can it be accessed."

"That must be a lot," Katia said as she wondered how much of the extranet he saved.

He smiled, "Oh, don't worry. I saved your favorite as well."

She giggled, "I know what we're doing when we meet again on Earth."

* * *

Back over, Jan looked to Peter, "Do I get something?"

Peter flicked Jan's facemask, "You're alive. Don't get greedy. Now come on, we…" Peter stopped as he looked up to the ceiling and the show above. Above on the main balcony, he was accessing the security cameras above, noticing something new. "Damn. Jan, wait here for a moment."

"Why?"

"Councilor Nerval and Sparatus. They just arrived. They weren't supposed to be here."

"So?" asked Katia as they walked over, "We can kidnap them as well."

"If we wanted to do that, we would have done so two weeks ago. Matt, we need to get them out of here. Jan, get ready. You two, get set. Matt, let's go!"

Peter and Matt quickly activated their Spectre disguises and rushed towards the elevator. Jan nodded to them and went over, waiting for his cue to go up. Mila and Katia walked over to their crate, programming a crane to lift it as they entered and sealed the hatch.

* * *

The crowd divided up into ten groups, heading to each ship to tour them. Each ship was about a hundred meters long, stretching almost from one side of the Presidium to the other. Skycar traffic had been diverted to avoid the ships. The hostess, with her ties to the Council, got a permit to be able to dock the ships on the Presidium itself instead of at the main docks in the upper Wards. While the main balcony connecting the ships was sealed off for paying guests, many from other parts of the Presidium watched the ships from close and afar. Many wondered whether they could protect their owners from the mysterious aliens from beyond the Traverse.

"Thank you so much for coming to this exposition, Matriarch Lidanya," said the hostess to Lidanya.

"Of course," she replied as she looked around, "It's good to be out among the other elite of the galaxy. The Council is bearing down on me since those damn aliens destroyed my ship."

"Yes, it was most… unfortunate that occurred. What does the Council plan to do about it?"

"Goddess, who knows. The Council is paralyzed by the recent events. They sent Fedorian over to Batarian space. According to the survivors from his fleet, those damn pyjacks captured him and his ship. I think the Council feels powerless to stop the threat from the Traverse." She turned around to look around the balcony, emptying as the guests entered the ships. At the entrance, she recognized two people enter.

* * *

 **Part 5:**

 **Councilor Nerval and Sparatus... er, Councilor Sparatus  
Presidium  
June 22, 2167 11:15:00 UTC**

"Are they not the finest ships you've seen?" asked Sparatus.

"I rode on garbage scows as an STG agent more reliable than these." responded Nerval. "People must be stupid to think getting a ship this small can protect them."

"Of course these ships can't save them. We will!" He chuckled as he looked around. "Hmm, she isn't here yet. Must be late."

Nerval replied, annoyed, "We'll wait here until your mistress arrives."

"Quite down! My wife has spies everywhere! She used to be a Ghost!"

"I can only image what she'll do to you. Hormone driven species…" he replied condescendingly.

They looked over, seeing the matriarch waving to them, still dressed in her commando uniform as a show of confidence to the crowd earlier.

Sparatus moaned, "Ugh, it's her."

"I wonder if she bought into the hype of these ships." Nerval looked over, then chuckled, "She isn't going to be happy when those Terrans return."

"I don't see why we must make peace with them. We should strike!"

"They made it clear we can't win a war with them."

Sparatus waved him off, "Nonsense. If you support me now, I can have… twenty thousand Turian ships sent into the Traverse immediately. Admiral Valast is already stationed near the Batarian 'Confederacy' border, awaiting orders."

Nerval shook his head, "And they'll face two thousand captured Batarian ships. Fifty thousand allied Quarian ships. And seventy-five thousand Terran ships that can clearly outgun ours."

He grunted, "When you became Councilor, I thought you would understand. How can a soldier like you be so wanting of peace?"

"Simple. I served out there in the field. I know when to wage war and make peace. I wonder if you do?"

Nerval turned away and smiled as Sparatus grumbled. As Lindanya made her way there, Peter and Matt ran up to them in their Spectre disguises. The Councilors turned to them, surprised by the seemly exhausted agents that ran up to them.

Peter spoke first, "Councilor Nerval… Sparatus…"

"It's Councilor Sparatus, you idiot. Now what is the meaning of this?"

Peter turned to the Turian Matt, both breathing heavily as they leaned on their knees.

"We… have report of an attack."

Nerval turned to them, "Attack?"

"Palaven…" Matt stood back up as he shook his head to focus. "Comm buoys are down. But we got a message from a Spectre agent on a frequency that wasn't blocked. The Terrans have launched a full attack on Palaven. Ten thousand ships!"

"What!" Sparatus grabbed all three of them, pushing them away from the balcony and into an empty hall. He whispered, "We're under attack?"

"Yes, sir. Ambassador Quentius has asked for you to deploy ships to save the home world. He's already meeting Councilor Tevos to get Asari aid."

Sparatus turned to Nerval, "I knew it. All this time, they have been framing peace to ready to attack."

"This is most unusual. Why attack now?"

"We must get to the embassy, now! And I hold you responsible for falling for their fake 'peace'!"

"Fine, fine. Let us go."

Lindanya walked up to them, but the Councilors quickly dismissed her, to her frustration. They quickly ran off, followed by the Spectres as she walked back, angry that the councilors were ignoring her.

* * *

At the level below, Jan waited at the elevator. He looked back to see two holo drones rolling up to him. They reached him and levitated up before Peter and Matt appeared, now in their Quarian disguises.

"Are they gone?"

"Yup. Right now, we programed our other drones to lead them away from the area," said Peter.

"So how did you get them to leave?"

"Oh we told them the Terrans were attacking Palaven," said Matt before laughing.

"Uh… ok then."

The elevator opened up and they boarded in.

"Ready, Jan?"

"Not the Asari I was expecting. Hold on…" They all stood there for a moment as the elevator continued, Matt and Peter looking to him. After a moment, an LED light on his thigh flashed on. "Ok, ready!"

"Great…"

* * *

 _ **NBC National:**_ _Date Stamp: June 15, 2167 12:00 UTC_

 _ **Breaking News: Martian Utopia Naval Fleet yard attacked by rebel forces!**_

 _In the morning of June 15, at nine o'clock, universal Terran coordinate, rebel forces succeeded in taking control the Martian Defense Relay in the Arcadia Plains on Mars. According to released statements by the Naval Officials, a video was released by the rebels, a rebel group known as 'Terra Prime' made the claim of having secured defensive positions on Mars. In their broadcast, they made the threat of attacking the Naval shipyards if all aliens were not evacuated from the Sol system._

 _In the aftermath of the siege, Terran Military press release officially informed the public that the rebel group was not content with the entrance of the Quarian and Batarian races into the Federation. It is stated that the group made radical and unrealistic demands and were a threat. Special forces were sent and succeeded in quickly destroying the rebel forces, having dug into the automated Vernard Martian Terraform Relay. No harm came to the orbital fleet yard._

 _The government has declared that this was not part of a major rebel group in the out reaches of Terran space, but a small terrorist group with minimal support. However, military correspondents have reported that the military has moved to SABER 2. The last time this status was declared was in the aftermath of the Amenthes terrorist attack on the fleet yard nearly twenty years ago in the early days of the Great Revival, which soon escalated to SABER 1 as martial law was declared across the planet. The Terran Military maintained SABER 3 throughout the Skyllian Blitz._

 _During the attack to destroy the rebels, the newly appointed Terran-Quarian Fleet Admiral Zaren Vali was reported to have participated in the Army lead attack. Official military reports state he was critically injured and is being treated. But rumors from insider reports have surfaced that he has since succumb to his injuries. Both the Quarian Ambassador Miri Ghirn and Fleet Admiral Albert Donnelly have denied such claims and state that his condition is still critical, but stable. They cited the reason for why Admiral Vali's location is hidden as for security reasons._

* * *

 _ **BBC: Eden Prime**_ _; Date Stamp: June 22, 2167 09:00 UTC_

 _ **Then and Now: Terra Firma Party**_

" _United we stand, on solid ground and firm earth." This is the motto of the Terra Firma Party. Twenty years ago, the Firmist stood on strong foundation, ruling nearly every aspect of the Terran political landscape. In 2147, they nearly had complete control of Congress, they drove out Nationalist President_ _and Founder Huang Chen_ _Lin to get Senator Rochus Vetrol elected as the third Terran President, and had rallied nearly seventy percent of the population to identify themselves as Firmist supporters._

 _At its origins, the party was a diverse group with members across the political spectrum, like the Terran Nationalist. Like the Nationalist, they represented the growing will for unity. Moderate and left leaning Firmists were in support of the Nationalist official agenda of unity throughout the nation. Right leaning members from both sides were more on the human unity agenda, with the Firmist being more radical about it with the discovery of the Prothean Ruins. Initial infighting allowed the Nationalist to gain control of the first Congress and later the first Presidency._

 _The success and rise of the party came from its most influential leader, Jeremy Bishop. Leading the party from obscurity in the early 30s, he grew the party into a diverse association, with members from across much of the political spectrum. Under his leadership, they gained control across the colonies and eventually the Congress. A partial motivator to this was his direct conflict with his extended family, with both his parents and his in-laws being Nationalist supporters. On their part however, the Nationalist only managed to rally a successful presidential election to succeed Thomas Anderson with Founder and Bishop's own father-in-law Lin. His son-in-law would ensure however that his presidency would not amount to much._

 _Expected to run in the 2146 election, Bishop left the party, citing the party has lost its way, sparking a loss of confidence in party leadership. Scrambling, Vetrol became the party nominee for president. In spite the heavy damage done to the Lin administration, Vetrol barely won by only a half a million votes and the surprise upset in taking the state of Exodus and its electoral votes. This still historic win for the Firmist would be the last however. Political, social, and economical neglect of the home world boiled over in 2148, sparking the Great Revival. Vetrol's failure to prevent and quickly stop the war, along with Bishop declaring the Firmist at fault for the war marked the end of party dominance. The party nearly imploded completely, as many of its high ranking elected officials leaving to join the Nationalist or Unionist. The remains of the party would rally itself into a smaller, conservative, and human centric party, which loss much of its public support and relevancy._

 _The party saw a sudden, and very short, boost in support at First Contact, with many fearing the discovery of other life in the galaxy and the quick entrance of many of them into the Federation. This died very quickly when radicals, including the current leader, orchestrated a terrorist attack that nearly crippled the Terran Military. As public support for alien entrance into the Federation has increased radically since, the party, lost without leadership and viewed by most as traitors, may not have a long future ahead of itself._

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Hey Everyone,  
Been a bit busy,  
But I think I can get back to bringing this story to you a bit quicker now.  
Hopes to that.

Clearly no one was happy with what that Asari did.  
But going after one person, I feel, doesn't solve much.

So why punish one person who took advantage of the helpless?  
When you can make **everyone** pay...  
by Deleting Everything!

(and also crippling Council communications  
that would leave them vulnerable or something.  
Not that the Terrans care for the more larger advantages.)

I'd say the galaxy's moral guardians would be happy,  
removing all that 'filth' off the extranet.  
But the Asari are less than moral,  
And all the Terran ones were wiped out in the Revival.

Oh well, Terran Internet for the win.  
And why fight a porn producer,  
when you can fight a deadly Matriarch?!

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\


	18. 17: But in our heart, our soul thus burn

**Chapter Seventeen: But in our heart, our soul thus burn…**

* * *

 **Part 1:**

 **A Suit Rat and a Pissed Off Asari  
Presidium  
June 22, 2167 11:30:00 UTC**

"I cannot believe this!"

The hostess turned to her as she returned to the stage in front of the central Asari ship, "Is there a problem, Matriarch?"

Lidanya crossed her arms, moody, "The damn Councilors. The moment I walked up to them, they waved me off and left!"

She replied softly, as to not agitate Lidanya more, "That is… unfortunate."

"It's like sixty years ago, all over again. After those terrorist suit rats razed havoc across Council space, I was blamed for letting them ago! That stupid Turian got the credit while I was blamed for squandering Council resources."

"Admiral Junius did gain his reputation from crushing the uprising," said the hostess.

"And I was made a social pariah! A laughing stock on Thessia! Like Aethyta."

The hostess thought for a moment, "I remember seeing her recently, but where again?"

"See! Nearly cast aside into obscured memory. Now these damn pyjacks from the Traverse are doing it again to me! They are a danger to us all. And to me!"

"Well, it's good I had this exposition set up. These people will have the best ships that credits can buy to protect them."

She snarled, "Let those idiots think that. Best not to start a panic. But the Republics spent over a hundred billion credits to build the _Destiny Ascension_. If those aliens can destroy her, well…"

"Well what?" said a voice behind them, a cough let out afterwards.

They turned around, immediately startled. The hostess gasped and pointed to him, trying to speak, "Oh G-Goddess, it's…"

"Yes... I can't believe my eyes," replied Lidanya with a silent calm that masked her more aggressive and immediate emotion.

Jan walked onto the balcony, dressed as Admiral Vali. He stood there, his stance giving out the commanding authority of an admiral, his fist to his hips. He even added the slight lurch to the left side and an occasional heavy breath. But inside, Jan was sweating and shaking from the fear of facing a trained commando matriarch, his heavy breathing turning very real. "What? It's like you've seen a ghost. So tell me, why should the Council be worried about the aliens from the Attican Traverse? I mean, last I recall, they sent half their fleet after me and well… I think you know how that went."

"You damn suit rat! How did you get onboard the Citadel?" she asked, slowly glowing up as she powered up her biotics.

"Come on now, Lidanya. Didn't you watch the vid a few weeks ago?" He began to circle around her, keeping his distance from her. "The Quarian race joined those aliens. They even gave me a fleet like the one that destroyed your ship. Now instead of me causing havoc across the galaxy the best an adolescent could do, I can conquer it… That's sounds quite enticing, wouldn't you say?"

"I should have killed you on Korlus sixty years ago!"

Jan chuckled, struggling just for the air to do so, "Your stupid Turian lackey couldn't do it. What makes you think an Asari whore like you could?"

"I'm going to rip you to shreds!"

"Well… what are you waiting for? You crazy biotic bosh'tet!"

Immediately, she threw a shockwave at Jan, who jumped out of the way. Peter and Matt took up defensive positions, laying down fire. However, their weapons were part of the disguise itself, firing holo rounds that exerted no force and dissipated upon impact. This still fooled the Matriarch, who erected a biotic barrier with one hand and kept throwing weaker shockwaves at Jan as he ran across the balcony. The remaining crowd quickly dispersed, running for the entrance or onto the ships.

Jan dove towards a column and stood back up, quickly running around the balcony as she kept trying to hit him.

"Is that the best you got? I'm over eighty years old." He jumped out of the way of another wave, "I should be dead but even then, you can't hit me."

"Do you have an idea what your damn antics cost me? I lost faced with not only the Council, but the entire Matriarchy on Thessia!"

She lifted up a nearby table with her biotics, throwing it across the balcony at him. He jumped out of the way, rolling to cover with Peter and Matt.

"Ha! They made me a captain for it back on the flotilla," yelled Jan as he poked his head from behind cover.

She began tear off parts of the stage off, hurling wooden beams and metal rodsat them, "You and that damn bitch Miri! I should have sent the Fleet to destroy your flotilla when I had the chance.

Jan grabbed Peter's fake rifle, firing widely at Lidanya. "Don't you call her that you damn Asari whore!"

Lidanya leapt out of the way, reaching for cover on her end as she raised another barrier. She activated her omni-tool, calling for five of her commandos to come out and join her.

"I'll kill you, I'll kill that bitch, and then I'll kill your asshole friend Faunz!"

"Whoa! That was something Jan," said Peter as they ducked behind cover as the commandos left the ship, guns ablaze at their position.

"It seemed like something Vali would do. I saw the old vids of him defending her when she was trialed for treason. I never saw someone yell that loudly at the Admiralty."

Matt came over, "It worked, that's for sure. Half the commandos just came out. Just five more and we're good."

"Ok Jan," said Peter, as he made up another holo rifle, "Take this up another level!"

Jan looked up as a large piece of the stage flooring flew over him and hit the wall behind him, "Ok then." Jan vaulted over, throwing out incendiary shells from his omni-tool. Specially modified to have little effect, they still managed to land on a commando, pushing her back while lighting part of her armor on fire. He kept running around to avoid counter fire, firing back wildly.

"So Lidanya. How did you still manage to get command of the _Destiny Ascension_?"

She threw another table at him, hitting the wall column he was hiding behind as the table broke in two. "I had to go through shit to regain the clout I lost from you damn suit rats. I pulled every string and contact I had to be given command of the _Destiny Ascension_."

She ordered her commandos to charge his position. Jan noticed, opening fire on the commandos as they got closer. They stopped, raising barriers to protect themselves, giving Jan enough time to run around the open balcony to the other side, as Peter and Matt kept them pinned with fake fire.

He slid behind cover and yelled out to her, standing on a half torn apart balcony, "Eight hundred years of clout, lost from trying to kill a group of teenage pilgrims who had no idea what they were doing? Either everyone really resented you for it, or you didn't have any to begin with."

"Damn you, Zaren. When I'm done with you, I'm going to mount your helmet on my office with your head still in it. Then I'm going to gather every damn Quarian in Council space, dump them on Tuchanka and feed them to thresher maws."

"Ha. I'd like to see you try. You couldn't stop even three of them." He ducked from a shockwave and moved out. "I saw how the Councilors utterly ignored you. Want to know why?"

"I want you to die!"

"As you waste your time on me, those pyjacks? They just launched a full invasion for Palaven!"

"What?" She flared her biotic shield, lashing out a wave that hit him as her commandos took cover. He got up and jumped to cover to quickly dodge her shockwaves and commando fire.

"And I bet they didn't want you anywhere near it. I mean we almost took the Citadel itself! All thanks to you…"

She ordered the remaining commandos off the ships, ordering them to assault Jan and the AIs. As the last one got off, Peter and Matt hacked the doors shut. They resumed opening fire on the commandos, who fired back, trading the AIs' holorounds for the Commandos' all too real ones as Jan moved about, dodging gunfire and the Matriarch.

* * *

The Quarians inside received the green light to execute the next stage of the plan. "Ok, on the count of three, we charge in and take the CIC. Got it?" asked Mila to the other ten Quarians in the crates.

"So on three, we jump out? Or on the go after three, we jump out?" asked one of the Quarians.

"Awe to hell with it, go!"

They opened the crate, rushing out and knocking out the crewmembers in the cargo hold with their black market rifles they stole from Fin. They rushed to the elevator, taking it up first to engineering, where Katia and another of them got off to take control of it. Next, they rode up the main living floor, where Daro and four others got off, forcing the guests on board into the suites and locking them, before they gained control of the computer room and med bay. Then Mila and the last two arrived on the CIC, where she quickly rifle butted the captain on board and the remaining Quarians forced the CIC crew into a corner as Mila took command of the ship's cockpit.

Outside on the balcony, the commandos stopped fighting, as they looked back to see the ships begin to break out of their custom built docking ports and fly away. The main Asari designed ship hovered above them, opening up its cargo ramp and getting as close to Jan as possible.

Mila patched herself into their radios. "Jan, get aboard, now!"

"I can't. The ramp is still too high." He looked to see Lidanya trying to get her commandos' attention and rally them to charge at him.

Katia ran out onto the ramp, looking down and waving at them. Jan waved back, as Peter and Matt ran up behind. They grabbed him on each arm and began to swing him about.

"Well Jan. It's been great meeting you and the others," said Peter as he began to swing him about.

Matt added on, "Yah, when this is all over, meet up with us on Earth. Or really, just tell Katia to meet me there."

"Wait, what are you doing?" he asked as he began to grow nauseous.

"We're going to throw you up there. Get ready to grab on to the ship."

"Safe flight!"

They threw him up, launching him up tens of meters into the air. He yelled all the while, as he tried to position himself. He arched and began to come back down, moving forward towards the bay ramp. With a near slip of his hand, he grabbed on to the edge of the ramp. Katia ran up and pulled him in. The ship turned about, with the cargo ramp facing at Lidanya and her commandos.

She looked up, confused.

"What the hell?"

Jan screamed out at her with his regular voice. "Hey Lidanya, I'm not Admiral Vali! You just got outsmarted by another stupid Quarian pilgrim who had no idea what he was doing!"

Katia joined in, "Take that, you blue prazza bitch!"

The ramp closed, as the ship joined up with the rest of the stolen ships. They flew up, passing through the field holding in the atmosphere of the Presidium and into space where they quickly jump to FTL towards the relay, before they finally entered the relay system all together.

Back on the balcony, Lidanya stood still, frozen in shock at what just happen. Her commandos took action, charging at the two remaining Quarians. But suddenly, they disappeared, leaving behind two hovering drones. When they got close to it, the drones self-destructed, leaving behind only ashes.

As she ran up and looked at the pile, she realized what the Quarian said about the attack.

* * *

 **Part 2:**

 **Ambassador Quentius and Ambassador Victus  
Turian Embassy  
June 22, 2167 12:00:00 UTC**

"So, huh. What are you doing tomorrow night?" asked Quentius.

"Nothing. Why do you ask, Ambassador?" asked Claudia Victus, the Turian ambassador to the Asari Republics.

They both sat in Quentius' office in the embassy, having returned from a formal occasion. She turned to him, expecting an answer.

"Ah well, I was hoping… if you'd be interested in maybe getting dinner?" asked Quentius, leaning over as he shivered a bit.

Claudia giggled, sitting down in one guest seat as she rested her feet on the other one. She answered, teasing him, "I don't know… Adrien is very protective of his mother…"

He answered, more confident, "He will just have to move aside. I was an admiral when he was just a young nestling!" He paused before continuing, the confidence now gone, "So huh… What do you say?"

"Hmm, ok Quentius. Not like I have anything interesting to do."

"Oh! Huh, great!"

He continued to sit there, nervous as Claudia stared at him, unimpressed by the old war hero. The doors to his office then opened, Sparatus and Nerval charging in. They both stood up, surprised that two Councilors suddenly appeared.

"Sparatus, Councilor Nerval, why are you here?" asked Claudia.

"What the hell do you mean? Palaven is under attack!" yelled Sparatus, deciding to ignore the fact he wasn't addressed as 'Councilor'.

"What! That's impossible!" yelled Quentius. He rushed to open his console to open a comm link.

"What do you mean? You sent these Spectres to tell us of the attack."

As his line connected, he looked at the Turian and Salarian at the back of the room. They stood straight up and still, "What in the Spirits do you mean? I don't know who they are." The line went dead, filled with static. He switched to an emergency comm line using military buoys.

Nerval spoke, "I don't understand. They ran frantically trying to warn us of an attack…"

His comm link to Palaven went through. Quentius looked at screen, Primarch Cassiud on the line. Cassiud looked back, in the middle of something he considered important.

"Ambassador, what is the meaning of this?"

"Well Primarch. I have been informed by Councilor Sparatus that Palaven was under attack…"

"By the Terran Federation!" yelled Sparatus as he walked over and moved the screen so they could see each other.

Cassiud looked at them, first confused, then angry. "Preposterous! There is no such attack! Where in the Spirits did you get such information?"

"By our Spectres…" He looked back to the door. But on the ground where they stood, two small piles of ashes remained. Sparatus stared at it for a moment, then screamed at the top of his lungs as he charged out the door in a fit.

Quentius moved the screen back to him. "My apologies sir. There seems to be some problems on our end."

"Well damn it. Get them fixed, now! And also, I just got word that extranet service across the galaxy is also malfunctioning. Fix it before we lose civilian comms. I do not want to spend the next few days explaining to the Volus why they can't trade! Cassiud out!"

The comm cut. They looked to each for a moment and then to Nerval.

"What was that all about?" asked Claudia.

"I believe I have a hypothesis."

As Nerval began to walk out, Lidanya ran in.

"The attack! It's a fake!"

"Yes, Lidanya," said Nerval, rolling his black eyes, "We realized that already."

"It was a diversion damn it! Those Quarian suit rats, they stole all the ships at the exposition!"

"Hmmm, interesting. One of those ships belonged to Sparatus' mistress… The AIs said it be a shame if something happened…"

"What are you talking about, Councilor?"

Nerval looked at her, "And you failed to stop them?"

"Ah, well… yes."

Nerval nodded and continued walking out. "Of course you did."

* * *

 **Part 3:**

 **Team Shodan - Tiberius Tower  
June 22, 2167 12:00:00 UTC**

Back in the apartment, the matter replicator in the study sealed its glass hatch as it began to pump in carbon and hydrogen, flash fusing and fissioning them and forging them into two new holo drones. Across the apartment, the lights dimmed as the machine made a huge power drain on the Citadel power grid. When the process was done, the hatch opened and the drones flew out, as Matt and Peter rematerialized.

"We did it," said Matt as they high fived.

"Yah, that was amazing."

They noticed a flash and beep coming from the door computer console. They walked up to see what it was. A video played, showing an Elcor, waiting patiently for five minutes before leaving, leaving behind a note of a missed delivery and another date for reattempting a delivery. The time stamp was a few minutes ago.

"Damn it, we missed it," yelled Peter, kicking the wall. "I am not programmed to deal with this shit!"

"Wow, they really did tie it to an Elcor."

* * *

 **Jan, Mila, Katia, and Daro - Council/Federation Border**

The ships followed a pre-programed route, taking them through several relays, heading to Batarian space. After an hour through the system, they went through the last relay, leaping out into an outpost along the border. Mila, Katia, Daro and Jan looked out the window, as they saw several Turian cruisers, badly damaged, limping back to the relay. They were soon picked up on sensors of an outpost station.

As the ships got closer, three Batarian dreadnoughts jump in from nowhere, aiming at them.

"This is the CSS _Bahak_. You do not have permission to enter Free Confederate space. Turn back or be destroyed."

Mila looked to them, "Ok. Daro, open a hail to them. Peter and Matt said our fleet return passcode will let us pass by."

She crossed her arms and grumbled, "Those things must be malfucti…" Katia looked at her, staring through her mask, making it clear to her she shouldn't finish her sentence. "…must be crazy to think the Batarians would accept our code."

"Just get the comm system up. We're dead anyway if we don't try."

She activated their communication systems, opening a hail to the leading Batarian dreadnaught.

"Mila, would you like the honors?" asked Jan.

"I think our 'Admiral' should do so."

Jan coughed, clearing his throat as he breathed out. He walked over to un-mute the microphone.

" _From our home, we wander the stars._

 _To lands of chrome, planets so far._

 _But in our heart, our soul thus burn._

 _Against all ramparts, we shall return!"_

They waited, in silence, to see if their passcode to return worked. From across the void, the dreadnoughts stood their place, fully silent. They waited a full minute, every second completely antagonizing for them, for they could die at any moment.

"Roger. Hold Position. Repeat. Hold Position."

They let out their breath, sighing in relief. As they went to check their instruments, a Terran aircraft carrier left warp, appearing instantly in between their ships and the Batarians. A message went through to them, the leading ship.

"This is the FSS _Marie Cooper_ , please respond."

Jan responded, "This is Jan'Trasal nar _Korbin_. Requesting permission to enter Federation space."

The captain responded immediately, "Your ships have been green lit to enter; however, you will be entering through us. Prepare to dock with the _Marie Cooper_. Our AIs will pilot your ships in."

The ships rattled a bit as its engine engaged itself. They looked out to see the other nine ships moving in formation, moving towards side docking bays on the ship, the hatches opening up as they began final approach. The ship entered one of the bays, slowing down as docking clamps positioned themselves to latch onto the hull of the ships. As the ship stopped, the clamps sealed into place as a gangway extended to attach to the docking hatch of the ship.

As they walked to the hatch, it opened. Several Marines rushed in, securing the CIC and scanning the Quarians, Council guests and crew before moving on to the lower parts of the ship. A Marine walked up to the pilgrims, instructing them to head down the gangway and onto the ship.

They left the ship, walking out onto the bay, as more Marines and mechanics rushed around the bay and into the ship. As they stepped off the gangway and onto the solid steel flooring of the bay, they looked to see a human and two Quarians walking out onto the bay from within the ship itself. The group was quick to recognize the Quarians.

"Ah, the young ones have returned home," said Miri to Koris.

He nodded as he looked at the ship aside them, "Yes, they appear to also have brought a gift."

The group walked up to them, saluting and greeting them.

"Admiral Koris, Admiral Ghirn. It is good to see you again," said Mila.

"The feeling is mutual. So tell me, what have you brought us?"

"What we bring you here is our gift, from all of us, from our Pilgrimage." said Jan, "This is one of the most advanced civilian ships in Council space."

"I see. And all the Quarians on the Citadel brought similar gifts as well," said Koris as he looked at the others ships dock alongside.

Miri spoke out, "Impressive…" She looked over as well and giggled a bit before sighing, thinking of another ship. A thought crossed her mind of that subject, so she asked, "Though I must ask, did you obtain these ships by legitimate means? I must remind you all that Admiral Vali's gift was initially rejected because he stole it from the Council."

They stood there, completely frozen. They just realized they had technically broken the single rule governing any Pilgrimage gift; it must not be gained by harming another. After breaking into a secured area, fighting a matriarch, and hijacking ten ships owned by the richest and most powerful people in the galaxy while holding its crew and guests hostage, they realized they broke that rule many times over. As they kept still, the human next to them began to chuckle.

"Now calm down and relax. We're all aware of the circumstances of how you got those ships," said the human.

"Oh… really?" asked Katia.

"Yes," answered Miri, "We got the report from the AIs from the Citadel."

"Yes," said Koris, "We even got a recorded vid of the how you were able to… distract the Matriarch."

"Oh... you did?" responded Jan.

Miri nodded to Jan, "Yes, I thought for just a moment he was right there, staring down Lidanya like he did on Korus… but it's good to see you all survived the experience."

"And achieved your goals. Unlike Quarian traditions, we Terrans believe, if you're going to make a big spectacle, it might as well be entertaining. That was a spectacular performance, Mr. Trasal," commented the human as she looked at the ship they came in. Mila looked to Miri, who seemed a bit losses in thought as the human Admiral and Koris turned to the ship. She then remembered of the news of what happens to Vali, taking a step closer to her.

She spoke softly, "Admiral. During our time with the human AIs, we were informed onto the true nature of Admiral Vali's injuries… My deepest condolences."

The other Admirals looked back, waiting for her to answer the still classified and touchy subject as Miri paused, staring at the ground. The fact was starting to sink in. Her reality had all changed. As she looked back up to the surrounding of the modern Terran vessel and at the gift from a new generation, she was reminded once more of a similar gift from a time long ago.

"T-thank you, child…" She looked to them all, "Admiral Vali would be proud of you all!"

"So now it's time you presented your gift to the Terran Admiral here," said Koris.

"We're not presenting to you two?" asked Daro.

"If I'm correct, it's custom to present it to the captain of the ship you're to join?" asked the human, "And given you are joining the Federation as a whole."

Mila asked, "You mean…?"

"You should present your gift to her," said Miri, "The highest ranking official of the Federation on board."

"I would be honored to take that role," she turned to the pilgrims, awaiting their response, "The Federation awaits."

"Of course." She looked to the human, "On behalf of the Quarian pilgrims from the Citadel, we bring you this gift so that we may join you, your crew and nation."

"On behalf of the Terran Federation and the _Marie Cooper_ , I, Fleet Admiral Helen Valenzuela, accept your gift. Welcome to the United Terran Federation. Welcome home!"

* * *

 **Part 4:**

 **Admiral Zaren'Vali - Section 14 Outpost - Twenty-Nine Days since First Contact  
June 29, 2167 1:00:00 UTC**

 _Zaren opened his eyes and found himself sitting on the frozen ground. Noticing the snow around him, he huddled up behind a piece of debris, a snowstorm all around him as he tried to keep warm. But he then heard gunfire all around him. He kept his head down behind his cover and turned to his left and right, looking to see what was happening._

 _To his left, he saw a male Quarian taking cover behind the downed body of a Geth Prime, firing into the obscured snowy fog of war just beyond him. From within the storm, a Geth ran up at him, but the Quarian quickly grabbed hold of it as it vaulted over the prime. He wrestled it to the ground, and deployed an omni-blade and impaled it into the snow. Another figure appeared from the blizzard, quickly revealed to be two other Quarians. But they raised their weapons at the first Quarian. In the end, the first one reacted first and shot down one with his rifle, before pulling out a pistol to quickly shoot the other. He then looked back to Zaren and tossed him his pistol._

" _Get the hell up Zaren! We're stuck in the cross fire!"_

" _What? Yes, Faunz."_

 _Zaren reached over to the pistol and got back down. He looked to his right. There he saw two figures slowly come into focus through the unwinding storm wind. He first saw a female Quarian, opening fire with a shotgun into the same direction the male was firing at. She kept firing, gunning down both Geth infantry and Quarian Marines beyond the snow blizzard. As she ducked back down to cover, she deployed a holo drone to cover her._

" _Go for the optics, Chatika! Go for the optics!"_

 _He looked closely, recognizing the second figure. It was a Geth, a standard sized platform with a matte-grey finishing and a single pole antenna sticking straight up from the left side of its back. As the female dropped her overheated shotgun into the snow and reached for her Carnifax pistol, the Geth spoke out._

" _Creator Ghirn. We detect a large contingency of Geth and Quarian forces converging on our…"_

" _Yes Mosia! I know. Keep firing!"_

" _We shall comply."_

 _The Geth leveled its sniper rifle. The female handled those close to them as the Geth fired at those afar, her drone hovering about across the snow blind battle field. Zaren huddled back behind cover, paralyzed for a moment as he slowly froze from fear and the cold. He looked down, his hands shaking as he dropped the pistol._

" _Miri… Mosia…"_

" _Damn it Zaren, we are about to be overrun!"_

" _Come on prazza, get over here!"_

" _Creator Vali, requesting urgent assistance!"_

 _As the fighting increased, he stayed their, confused and scared. He looked up and forward at the blinding snowstorm. For a moment, just white, the storm drowning out everything else around him. Then a figure appeared. It was spherical shaped, with a darker figure inside it rolled closer to Zaren. For a moment, Zaren was ecstatic, thinking he could recognized who it was as it grew closer to him._

 _"D-Dorin? Dorin! Dorin, come to dad..."_

 _His bubble grew closer, the toddler inside running faster. Zaren held his arms out for his arrival. Then, he vanished, nothing but the snowstorm once more in front of him. Zaren began to treble. He lost him again._

 _But then a shadow then appeared, draped over him. He looked up, seeing another Quarian male standing in front of him. Zaren looked on, utterly paralyzed as the Quarian flicked his arm and deployed an omni-blade._

" _A-admiral Tredis?"_

* * *

A white light flashed in his eyes, blinding him till his grey pupils adjusted. His head ached, keeping him down. But he was compelled all the while to get up.

"Oh… my head."

He took a deep breath as he slowly sat up of the table.

"Ah, my hips!"

As he cringed in pain, he took a deep breath. The air felt clean and crisp. He suddenly realized something wrong with that. He quickly stood up from the operating table he was laying down on, putting his hand to his face. It took a moment to register in his mind as he felt his glove on his face.

"Where the hell is my face plate?"

He looked around the room, a clean white operating room trying to find any of his equipment. He searched frantically for it, fearing the air his breathed would quickly kill him. After a minute of frantic searching, he found nothing. But he noticed his breathing was smooth and painless. His nostrils were clear and open. He felt well, not sickly at all. He even noticed he wasn't suffering his cough bursts anymore. He took a deep breath and realized he hadn't had such a relaxing breath in decades. His body also felt well, feeling quick in reflexes as he thrust his hips and straightened his back with ease. But he was not relaxed.

"Where in the Ancestor's name am I?" he asked himself, looking around the room for something to indicate where he was. But someone else heard him.

"You're on outpost Dixie-102," said a voice from the intercom near the door.

"Who are you, what am I doing here?" demanded Zaren as he walked to the door.

"Admiral, please calm down. We're trying to help you. You have been… out for two weeks."

"Who are you, show yourself!" he demanded, getting worked up. He noticed his body wasn't aching from his outburst, as it normally would. He felt energized, and his body felt able to support it.

The door opened and a man walked into the room. He had an older appearance, a scar across his face. Zaren didn't recognize him at first, but he was clearly Federation, based on the uniform he was wearing.

"Admiral Vali. On behalf of the Federation and Section 14, welcome back to the living."

Zaren then remembered, "You're that Army Chief of Staff…. Williams. What the hell is going on... Back to the living?" He patted his lower abdomen, pressing against his suit to feel his now non-existence wound, "I was… I was dead. Yes, I got shot and… I succumbed to my wounds." Zaren fell back a bit, leaning himself on his bed, "My last sight... of Miri."

"And now you can say 'hello' to her again."

He stood back up, "She's here?"

"Not now I mean. My apologies, she is currently on route on the _Sagan's Voyage_ to the Citadel."

He sighed, "Well then," he reached for the back of his helmet and removed his wiring, before unclipping it altogether. He popped it off and shook his head, noticing his white hair was shorter. It had been a while since the last time he took the time to get his haircut. "Explain to me what's going on, and what's this Section 14? I remember Harper mentioning them."

Williams motioned him to walk with him. They left the medical bay he was in, his helmet under his arm, walking into a corridor of the station. They walked down a corridor with the view of a planet the outpost was orbiting being the main interest out the window.

"What planet is that?" asked Zaren.

"Feros, a small minor colony of major archeological importance. We believe this is an ancient Prothean city, the entire planet, is one big city. You'll never see this on a Terran world. We normally have laws against this. Protect the environment and keep population levels controlled, that sort of thing."

They continued down the corridor, turning left into a room with several guards posted to it. They walked in, passing a secretary's office. The guards saluted them as the secretary greeted them. They walk past another door, walking into Williams' office. They sat down, three chairs facing a table with an assortment of alcoholic drinks. Williams leaned over to the table to get a drink.

"Interested in anything? We have Turian brandy that we retrieved from some ships pilgrims stole from the Citadel."

He placed his helmet down on the seat next to him, "I'm fine. I haven't had a drink since the last time I was at the Citadel… wait, what did you say?"

"Oh yes, just a week ago, all of the Quarian pilgrims from the Citadel stole a group of ships. I heard they had to fight the former captain of the _Destiny Ascension_ , a Matriarch Lidanya, to get to them." He reached for a bottle of bourbon, poured a drink and sat back, sipping it, "Like what you did, I believe."

He gave a single chuckle, more curious than amused, "Did they set off explosives and destroy part of a ward as a distraction?"

"Well, no. But based on the report from Team Shodan, they wrecked up part of the Presidium, faked a report of us attacking Palaven, as insane as that is, and then for some reason, crashed the extranet. But I got what I wanted from it."

"Those children need to find a better role model than me… It'll only get them killed."

"I can say the same for ours. So then… your first question?"

"Oh Yes. What is Section 14?"

Williams stretched a bit before speaking. He had spoken the same words over and over. When he was younger, he heard them over and over. It took him awhile to take the words seriously, "United Terran Federation: Constitution: Article 31: Section 14: Quote, 'As to ensure the continued existence and prosperity of the United Terran Federation, all deputized personnel under its domain may and are empowered to take any and/or all necessary action to accomplish what is considered best, at the time of interpretation, for all citizens under the banner and protection of the United Terran Federation.'"

Zaren sat up, "Section 14 is a paragraph?"

Williams took a drink and laughed for a moment. "You're asking the wrong question. It's _who_ is Section 14? We are the ' _deputized_ _personnel_ ' who must ' _take any and/or all necessary action_ ' to ' _accomplish what is considered best_ ' for ' _all citizens and races under the banner and protection of the United Terran Federation_.'

We are the ones willing to do what the Federation could never do. We are the bitter shadow of the bright nation. We commit the immoral actions that keep the people moral. We… we are Section 14, who ensure the Federation is only uplifted by its ideals, never held back by them."

"A black ops organization. Like the Council Spectres?"

"The Council Special Tactics and Reconnaissance is an official organization. But if you ask anyone in the Federation, most don't know we exist. At the very most, some may think we're some made up black ops group from the movies. The few who do know who we are would deeply disagree with our methods."

"Like Admiral Donnelly back on Mars?"

"Yes. There are many high and low ranking members of Section 14. Some may not be as subtle as others, but even the highest ranking members of the Federation, even if they disagree with us, know we are the necessary evil that ensures the good of the Federation."

"Ok, I see who you are now. What do you want with me?"

"We want you to know, first off, that the Federation and Section 14, welcomes the Quarians and the Batarians into the Federation. Section 14 isn't some supremacist human organization. Everyone in Section 14 cares for the ideals of the Federation and is willing to fight for that end. It was unfortunate that misguided radicals who failed to truly understand those ideals nearly killed you… well, permanently anyway."

Zaren looked at Williams, unsure of what to make of his claim. He was no longer sure he was actually alive.

"Those rebels may have been misguided, but your lot could be existing on a misinterpretation of a few words. It seems their leader thought so."

"Maybe…" Williams nodded with some reluctance, "I would admit that possibility. I thought so too, long ago. But sometimes, a bit of ignorance can shed new light on a situation." He smiled again, "Maybe, it was intended."

"That is what you think… How did you bring me back anyway?" asked Zaren.

"You were by all means dead, Admiral Vali." Williams reached to refill his glass, chuckling, "But it wasn't like you were blown up or something. Actually, the standard augments your race uses helped make reviving you much easier than thought originally. On our part, we used advanced nano-robotics to rebuild your organic cells." He pointed over to his own face, making Zaren remember that he wasn't wearing his helmet and was breathing in unfiltered air. "You have taken to breathing in regular air quite well. We took the liberty to test a new nanite that could enhance Quarian immunity."

"Nanites are acting as my immune system?"

"Sort of. Your species' ability to adapt your body to nearly any disease is very fascinating. We all know however how useless that is in the short run. So we used these new nanites that augment most of your immune system. This allows you to fight off any ailment in the short term, but enables your body to adapt to it in the long run, retaining the long term benefits."

Zaren breathed in the air, not being affected by what could be in it.

"If every Quarian had this, we could be free of our suits."

"It would return your race back to its former physical peak, maybe even better. Best of all, we see that it works. Plans to introduce the schematics to a med firm or the Military Medical Academy are currently in the works."

"Section 14 isn't going to claim they made it?"

"We are the shadow, not the right arm. It's not like we do everything, just give important help every so often. The small kicks in the butt, or slaps to the face, to keep Terra moving." He placed his glass down on the table, leaning over to Zaren. "But a shadow must show the outline of what projects it."

"Meaning…"

"The Federation is now a multi-race nation. So must its shadow be. I want you to join Section 14, Admiral. We need someone who cares for the cause as much as we do."

"Join an unofficial, illegal black ops group? What possible good could come from that?" remarked Zaren. "My cause is to my people and anything that can help it."

Williams smiled, hoping for those words. He tapped his watch. The doors of Williams' officer opened again, a new figure entering his office. Williams leaned back in his seat and continued to drink, paying no attention. Zaren turned his head over, his white eyes suddenly wide open.

"I… asked the same question. Huh, Admiral Vali?"

* * *

Zaren shot up from his seat. He grabbed his helmet from the adjacent chair and tossed it, but the figure caught it. Zaren looked for some other object and saw the bottle of brandy and grabbed it. He smashed it against the table and held it up at the figure, who simply tossed Zaren's helmet back onto the chair before he held his hands up halfway as he smiled. Zaren, however, stuck to his fighting stance, shaking with fear.

"It's been a while since I last saw your face unmasked. Time has not been kind to either of us, it seems," said Junius, looking at the bottle in Zaren's hands. "What a waste. That was a vintage bottle from a good year. The year I stopped Okeer!"

"Yes, I was hoping to try it. We go both ways in our amino acid, among other things." Williams took another drink, still relaxing in his chair.

Zaren paid no mind to him, continuing to stare at Junius, "You! You… You should be dead!"

Junius chuckled, "Yes, and so should you."

"You mean on Mars? Or when you spaced me and Miri out of your ship!"

He closed his eyes and shook his head as he thought about it, smiling, "Wow… that was so long ago. Huh Zaren?"

Junius took a step forward, but Zaren poked the broken bottle at him, "Get back you bosh'tet!" He turned to Williams, "What the hell is he doing here?"

"We found him. A slave in the Hegemony, and a former Fleet Admiral from the Turian Hierarchy? Wished to meet a fellow Army general, but as you can see, we are in need of more personnel." He held his glass up and grinned, "Can't be choosey. Even with Navy."

"And you want me to work with someone like him? This man tried to kill me and thousands of other Quarians! They called him the "Killer Owl" because he hunted down us suit rats like prey!"

Williams replied, "That was over sixty years ago, Admiral... Hmm, metal owls, like on Amaterasu?"

"And how are you alive? All reports said you died in that war between you and the Hegemony!"

Junius looked to Williams, who gestured to him to take a seat. He walked over while keeping his distance from Zaren, still pointing the broken bottle at him. He placed the helmet on his lap as he sat.

He looked at Zaren, a more serious look on his face, "I was captured. I escaped on a pod when my ship was destroyed. Me and thousands of others were supposed to be prisoners of war."

"So?"

"The 'new' Primarch Cassiud ended the war and left us out of the treaty. In turn, the Hegemony sold us into slavery… I spent twenty years on Logarsi."

"Serves you right, you bird bastard! If you wanted to do me a favor, you should have died there!"

Junius quickly rose and tossed the helmet at Zaren, bouncing back to him, "Fuck you, you damn suit rat! You don't know what I've been through! Everyone thinks I'm dead! Everyone I ever cared for! They think I'm died over Philippi, like some damn hero! No… I am no hero. I did die though, in the hell that is Logarsi. I'm just a damn spirit, wondering about."

"Then you should have stayed there. But now you're here. Why, why are you alive?"

Junius looked down, chuckling as he began to remember and think back to his first years in that hellhole planet. He looked at Zaren.

"I was alone. Reduced from the next in line for Primarch to a slave. But to think, the only friend that I think I ever really had, that helped me survive in that hellhole, a fate as good as death, was a damn suit rat."

Zaren lowered his guard a bit, "A Quarian took pity on you? Unbelievable. So, you made it out. Did he?"

Junius looked at Zaren and smiled, "No he didn't… I killed him!"

Zaren quickly hurled himself at him, knocking Junius to the chair as he tried to stab him with the broken bottle. Junius held on to his arms as the sharp glass neared his face as he shoved Zaren's helmet at his face to push him back.

Williams simply stared at them, before he finished his drink, placing his glass on the table.

He chuckled, "And Harper thinks his bourbon is a good drink."

He looked at them once more, growing a bit annoyed. He sat up and pulled out his revolver. He aimed up, pulled back the hammer, and fired into the ceiling. They both stopped and looked back at him.

"Gentlemen, please!" he said, finally starting to raise his voice, though not by much, "Time is of the essence."

Junius pushed Zaren off of him. He sat back up.

"And not a day goes by, that I haven't wished it was he who killed me instead… I am dead, Zaren. I have nothing. At least you have that damn bitch Miri."

"Don't you call her that, you damn bird!"

He laughed at his face, before speaking condescendingly, "Oh excuse me! You two were just the couple of the millennia! So, how is she? You marry her? Pop out a nest of a couple dozen baby rats? Live happily ever after?"

"No!" Zaren yelled as he began to shake once more, "No…" He dropped the bottle as he stared at Junius with utter rage. "We didn't... But Keelah, it certainly looked like it, huh? We were once happy. I once had it all…" Zaren fell back and sat down. He looked down at the ground, "Then I lost it all… It was all my fault. My fault!"

He yelled out and slammed his fist on the table. It cracked down the middle, but Williams quickly grabbed another bottle of Turian brandy and some glasses. Zaren yelled out in frustration as Junius stared. He then stopped and dropped his head into his hands and cried.

"Well? What happened then?" asked Junius. A part of him didn't care much for his old adversary. Another part felt some pity though. The last decades of his life gave him perspective of the hardship he himself one caused.

Zaren was hesitant. He didn't want to share. He more so didn't want to remember. "I… I wish you had killed me... You would have spared Miri the pain… The pain I caused her…" He looked up at Williams, "Why do you want me to join you? You should have kept me dead... I'm a failure as an Admiral… a husband… and as a father."

William looked to them, "Here, you both have a second chance. For I and all the galaxy need you alive, both of you. The galaxy is facing a threat none of us have ever before seen."

Junius crossed his legs and arms, "Ah yes. These 'Reapers'." He turned to Zaren, "These humans are a paranoid bunch. Makes the Batarians seem sane."

"Paranoid?" Williams laughed as he opened up the bottle and poured into each glass between his fingers, "Sure! But I have proof." He leaned over and handed them a glass and used his watch to call his secretary to arrange transport.

"W-Where are we going?" asked Zaren.

"Torfan. Then to its star. There you will see my proof."

"And the danger, the threat?"

Williams slowly lurched into his seat as he thought about it, rolling his fingers

"You two… In your own way, you both want to go home. Zaren, so you may bring your beloved within the walls of a beautiful garden. Marcus, so you may see your son on the land that shines like silver. But for me, I… I want to protect the only home I ever really knew. The cool green hills of Earth."

"That's all a man can wish to do," said Junius.

"For ourselves and those we care for," said Zaren.

Williams smiled as he sat up, "Good. Because if you two don't help me and Section 14, not only will none of that happen, but Adrien and Miri will not live to see it not materialize. I am trying to help you, help the galaxy… I am trying to save the entire damn galaxy from a threat of unimaginable proportions! That, Zaren, is the good that could come from this. That, Junius, is the promise I made to you. The homes of everyone in this galaxy. And when you see it for yourself, you'll realize just how horribly right I am… and you'll realize just how more important settling your affairs are."

They stared at him and he did so at them. They had nothing else but to take his word. They turned to each other, realizing the past no longer could be a factor. Zaren was still enraged, at himself and those around him. He didn't have the motivation to keep going, this being the closest thing. Junius felt hollow, this he knew was the closest thing to a purpose in his life now. A slave again on his own free will. Williams and the Terrans would force them into the future. When they turned back and nodded, Williams stood up and held his glass out, they did the same.

Williams spoke first, "For what guards us…"

Zaren next, "For what motivates us…"

Junius followed, "For what gives us purpose…"

They toasted, "For the Federation!"

They drank up their drinks, before sitting back down. Junius and Zaren sat there, unsure of the future. Williams, however, was enjoying himself.

"You're right about the brandy, Junius. Minty flavor!"

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Lurching in the shadows,  
new alliances are made.

But as the Terrans get ready,  
So will those under the Council.

The Terrans may get what they want,  
But they will pay dearly for it.

For that is the price for peace,  
To ready the galaxy,  
In the most painful of ways.

Thanks for reading,  
Keep on following,  
And always feel free to review.

If you have any questions that the story didn't answer,  
Go ahead and PM me.  
I'd be glad to answer them.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\


	19. 18: Against all Rampart, We shall Return

**Chapter Eighteen: Against all Ramparts, We shall Return!**

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

We grow ever closer now,  
Face to Face,  
Leaders of two different galactic powers.

Everyone is getting ready,  
Everyone wants peace,  
Though they don't know how to get it.

But they know what they want from it.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

* * *

 **Part 1:**

 **Councilor Nerval and Matriarch Benezia  
Thirty-One Days since First Contact  
One Day Before Diplomatic Talks  
June 31, 2167 21:00:00 UTC**

 _Citadel, Citadel Chambers, Galactic Date: 17_ _th_ _Day of the Fifth Standard Month, 2907, 07:00 GS_

"Good morning, ladies and gentleman. I am spokesperson Yaval and I will be reading this official statement issued by the Citadel Council in relation to the events that have occurred this and the previous month. _"_

" _Given the present situation and events that have transpired in the past month, the Citadel Council has been working to make sense and establish order of the situation and take appropriate action in defense of Council space._

 _Through discreet and classified means, the Council has been able to establish back door communications with this new alien power that dubs themselves as the 'United Terran Federation'. It is the Citadel Council's pleasure to announce that these aliens, which have made their presence clear to all, have called for an end to whatever form of hostility exist between us._

 _In the next few days, we will be expecting a diplomatic convoy to be arriving to the Citadel to open diplomatic relations among our people. It is the hope of everyone on the Council that it will open the way for peace between us, the return of POWs and captured civilians to us, and the proper exposure to a whole new culture that exists beyond the Traverse._

 _In anticipation and with proper preparation, all forces under the direct control of the Council will be placed on high alert for the time being. Please do not be alarmed of the sudden military buildup here on the Citadel and across Council space. It is our belief, based on our intelligence, that the Terrans are home somewhere in the Attican Traverse. We implore citizens to not head to that region of space for the foreseeable future. In the event you may come upon a Terran ship, do not engage in hostilities. Retreat from them and they will let you leave. Please be mindful that unwarranted aggression may provoke further hostility._

 _At this time, the Council has continued it stance in condemning the alien force over the destruction of the Destiny Ascension and the loss of Admiral Fedorian's fleet. The Council has made no comments at this moment on other events that may or may not involve Terran activity, such as the theft of several luxury ships or the extranet blackout several days ago._

 _The Council advises that proper caution be taken in the next few days. Let us showcase that the heart of galactic civilization is a place of peace, understanding, and communication among all races."_

* * *

At the higher levels of apartments on the Presidium, there was a small party being held. With the events of the past month, from First Contact with an unknown race, to the destruction of the might of the Asari, and the hijacking of the most expensive civilian ships in the galaxy and the many of the elite with it, many were shaken up. It wasn't helped by the lack of response by the Council. The party was a formal affair for high ranking government officials and VIPs for the numerous races. Hidden in the shadows of the large apartment overlooking the lakes of the Presidium were a combination of Spectre and STG agents guarding the place, as Turian Havoc Marines and Asari Spatana Commandos openly roamed the premises, assuring the guests and deterring any attacks.

At a corner, Councilor Nerval continued his conversation with Matriarch Benezia, the backs of a Marine and a Commando to them. Nerval was in his usual robes of dark blue, red and yellow pattering in the front. Benezia was in a bright yellow gown, her favorite color.

"What is your hypothesis, Councilor? Where are the Terrans getting their advanced technology from?" asked Benezia as she sipped some wine.

"I am as stumped as everyone else," he replied as he ate some insect h'ordeuvres, "But from our intel reports, they are beyond our logic. For the time being anyway."

"Maybe the Terrans are getting their advantage from Prothean technology? Maybe they discovered a rich archive of Prothean tech, or found their old home world out there in the Traverse."

Nerval gave out a rare chuckle, "Next people will say they are the direct decedents of the Protheans, or are the Protheans in disguise. Please Matriarch, don't entertain the idea. The people are scared as it is."

"Still, Councilor. A single race couldn't have made such progress alone. Image if they have such ruins at their disposal. Why, my daughter would steal a starship and head into the Traverse to join them if she knew it to be so."

"Steal a starship..."

She giggled, "Oh, my apologies. I am a bit fortunate I was busy with my affairs on Thessia. I had plans on attending that ship exposition. I had bought one myself as a gift for my daughter. I was hoping to draw her out from whatever archeological site she's at with it. I even included a Prothean relic I bought off the black market for good measure." She sighed. "Now that's gone. In the hands of the Terrans."

"Along with everyone on board each ship," he sighed, "At least you're here. I can only imagine what they are doing to them."

"I'm sure they are fine. If they wish to make diplomatic contact, they wouldn't risk hurting what I'm sure they would recognize as civilians."

Nerval nodded, "Maybe so. Which reminds me of something I must speak to you about."

Benezia finished her wine and placed it down on a nearby table, "Yes, Councilor?"

"Through our… back channel communications, we have learned that the Terrans will be bringing a civilian convoy. They wish to explore the Citadel."

She thought about it for a moment, "A tad unusual. We are still at war."

"They may be part of the diplomatic convoy's plan. Show a side of them similar to our own."

"These… humans, correct? They are an eccentric race. But I see it as my duty to showcase the rest of the galaxy to them. Something can be learned from it. Maybe I can learn more about them as well. To understand one another is the cornerstone of peaceful existence, no?"

Nerval nodded, "Agreed. Still, take note of them. Based on what we have been told, our guests will include a high status human with high ties to their economy and government. Learn more from them."

She looked at the Salarian in curiosity as she singled for another glass of wine, "It's as though you're trying to make some trade agreement ahead of actual diplomatic ties."

"You can say that," he reached for another cheese fly cracker, "If he feels investing their material into our economy is a must, he could influence their diplomats to make peace work. Admittedly, we don't have much in the way of influence in making whatever peace treaty we draft work in our favor. And unlike what my predecessors would do, I'm thinking long term," he reached for a glass of water as he began coughing, choking a little bit, "If we tie our economy with theirs, not only will we benefit from what they have, we can force peace through an interlocking economy."

Benezia took notice of Nerval's ailment and used her biotics to gently pat his back, "I have seen and knew many Salarian Councilors. You are quite an active one."

He patted his curved chest and sighed as he finished his glass of water, "Look at us, Matriarch. Thousands of years of civilizations. And here we are in fear of a group far younger than us."

"By how long?"

"Your youngling is older than their government."

"It must be Prothean influence," she chuckled, "That alone would interest her."

"That alone would interest us all!" said a voice from a far.

They both turned as a Turian walked up to them, two Ghost agents on his flanks. He was dressed in the formal clothing of a Primarch and had a light teal tattoo on his nose, sides of his face, and across each of his head spikes. He gave a short bow to them and spoke.

"Matriarch, Councilor," he addressed them with a Turian smile, a grin with his mandible half wiped out, one that would scare most, but not two well aged people like them.

"Primarch Arterius! I didn't know you be here," said Benezia in surprise as she nodded to him.

"Agreed. You are not afraid the Terrans will attack or something?" asked Nerval.

He chuckled. An aged veteran who rose to general during the Turian-Batarian war, fought across the Terminus, and later ascended to the Primarchcy of the Taetrus colony, he was more versed than most in expecting the unexpected. "Hardly. But unlike Lidanya, I do not wish to underestimate our enemy. I've been hearing rumors across the field of imagination. The technology, their capabilities. To be feared as if they are the returning Protheans!"

Benezia nodded, "We have come to the conclusion they are but a mere race that have made dramatic advancements in their young age."

"It's interesting. We say they are like the civilization before us, but I remember an Asari that once claimed that you of all people should have eclipsed the Protheans millennia ago. Building our own mass relays and Citadels. Now we have encountered a race that took the leap even the most sophisticated race in the galaxy failed to do." He took a drink from his glass. "Maybe she was warning us. And we didn't listen."

Benezia's eyes lifted for a moment in sudden awareness of who he was referring to. She kept her calm, but debated furiously in her mind whether he knew of the connection between her and that Asari.

"W-well, we have nothing to fear though. They wish for peace."

"Yes, well…" He looked down on his glass of wine, grasping it with both hands as he tapped his two index talons together and twirled the wine within it. He stopped smiling, "Why sue for peace? They destroyed the _Destiny Ascension_. They have ships beyond our own. They annex the Quarians and Batarians… They could have made that 'attack' against Palaven real, deployed their fleets across our space with their fancy FTL."

"You think it is a ploy?" asked Benezia.

"They want something… whether they want a real lasting peace is not the point, but I am sure it isn't for the greater good of things. This peace the Council will work for will either be a sham… or serve a greater purpose for them, which still may not be of our interest."

"If we have peace, they can't achieve more than they already have."

"From my experience in war, in matters of strategy, you can fight a war without war. Even in the blanket of total peace, battles can be waged. But whether that is against us, or someone else is the question. Either way, I won't be blindsided. Peace may benefit us now, but I want to know how it will benefit them."

"Do other Hierarchy officials see your point of view?" asked Nerval.

He smiled and chuckled, "I doubt it. We haven't fought an enemy of real intricate depth since we fought ourselves in the Unification Wars. Primarch Cassiud's head is stuck up his own ass. But I want to know more on the Terran race…"

Benezia corrected him, "Human race, for the Terrans we haven't seen before."

"To have a separate name for national identity, to make all those under their domain 'Terran', like them. _Some_ say the Protheans were the same…" he smiled, Benezia sure this time which expert on the ancient Protheans he was referring to, "But mark my words, learning who they really are may just save our lives." He looked to his omnitool, noticing the time, "My apologies, I must be off."

"You're excused. We'll keep your words in mind."

"Please do."

Nerval turned to him, "Which reminds me, your brother has been reinstated for active duty."

"Ah yes, I heard. He is a persistent one. In spite of his injury and mistakes, he will learn and adapt. Unlike what the Hierarchy staff thinks, that is a good quality in a solider. And a dangerous one for an enemy to have… But I digress. Councilor, Matriarch."

He left the room, heading to the door as the small party of the elites continued chattering and drinking. As he passed near the door, he stopped Ambassador Victus as she arrived, gently grabbing her arm as she walked in.

"Ah Claudia, how good to see you here."

She shrugged him off, "I didn't expect to see you here. Shouldn't you be on Palaven for the convening of the Senatoria?"

He chuckled, "And listen to Cassiud bore us to death with his agenda for the year? I'd rather not."

Victus dismissed her guards as she and Arterius walked back into the corridor leading to the door. "That's why I took this position the moment it opened up. I could be Primarch of the Cilicia colony if I wanted to."

"There is something to a Primarchcy that makes it worth it." He gave that grin once more. "I assure you. But you're right. I should be off now. Before I leave, I may have some news for you though."

She reached for her drink from a server, "Yes, Desolas?"

"My sources of intelligence has discovered something important…"

They walked away to a corner as she began to drink. He took out a tablet and handed it to her as he whispered into her ear. After a moment, she turned away and spat at a potted plant.

"He's alive!?"

Across the room, Benezia returned to the topic, "They are arriving tomorrow, no?"

"Yes they are. Give a good impression. From what we can tell, they don't hold the Council in high regards."

"You said the Terran is a kind of business man?" As Nerval nodded, she looked around the room. She then noticed a particular Volus in the crowd. "I think I have things planned already."

"Ah, good. Already, you are more prepared than Tevos and the entire Asari diplomatic team."

* * *

 **Part 2:**

 **President Bowman and Doctor D'gona  
One Day Before Diplomatic Talks  
June 31, 2167 08:00:00 UTC**

In the small observation room on Starbase 5, President Bowman was finishing his press conference with the media. Outside was a dry dock, its skeleton housed the latest Terran ship, the first _Exodus_ class Flagship, the _Sagan's Voyage_. With the star of the Guardian Bear ahead of her, her hull of bright silver with navy blue outlines glimmered from the light. Once only dreamt of long ago, in a few hours, the ship would begin her first voyage to the heart of an alien civilization.

"And what do you expect from meeting this alien Council?" asked a reporter from the BBC.

Bowman answered from his podium, his back to the observation window and the ship.

"Our experts on the topic, from the Quarians, Batarians, and other races have assured us that we are dealing with a civilized people. I am confident that we will make diplomatic contact and resolve what differences and issues we have between our galactic people."

"Will the Fleet be allowed to escort your ship into Council territory? The Council must be on high alert, let alone simply apprehensive to see as much as a squadron of Terran ships in orbit of their 'Citadel'," asked another reporter from Al Jazeera.

"We are on a mission of peace," he replied, "So we will be taking known relays to the Citadel instead of transwarping there. To prevent any sign of hostilities, the _Sagan's Voyage_ will be unescorted after passing from our border into Council territory."

"The Third Fleet will not provide any escorts for your trip to the Citadel?"

"There is no need. As the first of our _Exodus_ class ships, she represents the prowess of united Terran people. No threat, foreign or domestic, is a match to her."

"But what is your agenda when you meet the Council?" asked the reporter from NBC, "What kind of peace should the nation be looking forward to in the event an agreement is made?"

"What we hope to gain…" an aid walked up to him, alerting him to something. "I have been informed we are now behind schedule, and I have no intention of being late. If you please excuse me, we will be departing within the hour. Thank you, and God save the Federation."

His guards escorted him off the podium as reporters continued to question him. Entering the backroom, he breathed a sigh of relief. After all, he didn't have the answer to that. He left and entered the hallway to his shuttle to the ship. Quickly joining him was Admiral Darya and D'gona as they walked to the shuttle.

"Darya, what's the sit rep on the _Voyage_?" asked Bowman as Darya handed him a tablet.

She answered, upset, "As I said before, I highly recommend you change ships, Bowman. The _Sagan's Voyage_ is not ready."

"How is she not ready?"

"Because she only started construction less than two weeks ago," she leaned over to the tablet and opened up the status reports for the ship, "Her warp coil assembly is only 70% installed, barely able to do warp six…"

Bowman brushed off the comment, "What was our ship's old max speed? Five? I still remember when Donnelly broke the warp three barrier on the _Armstrong_. How about hyperdrive?"

"Her hyperdrive navigation isn't installed yet, tactical crews report the ship's shielding array is shoddy at best. Dorsal shielding is 30% best. Her mag guns are still on Mars. Her phaser defense grid is only 20% operational, and only two of the fifty torpedo launchers are capable of _manual_ launch."

D'gona commented on the ship's status, "It's impressive you have been able to build a mostly working ship in such time. The Turians or Salarians would still be laying down the framework at this time. We Asari would be debating on assembling a committee to determine if we needed to build one."

"When you offer the CEO of our entire military industrial complex a ride to the Citadel, things get done rather fast," replied Bowman, "Speaking of which, what's the status of Bishop's ship?"

"Building a ship this quickly doesn't count for much if it isn't able to do its job. If the Council attacks, the _Voyage_ would be highly vulnerable," replied Darya, "As for Bishop, the _Pierpont_ has just entered the Arcturus system, passaging Goyle and Udina from Earth. He also sent an apology for the current state of the ship."

"How kind of him. Though after what happened with the election, the ship is more of a reminder of how much he thinks I owe him… What is working?" asked Bowman.

She took the tablet back and coursed through it, "Life support is nominal, power grid is online besides the antimatter core, and the work crew has finished installing high-grav forged plates onto the hull. We can't get the polarization ready, but her hull now rivals the _Destiny Ascension_ by itself."

"That's doesn't inspire a lot of confidence, Anna."

"Neither is your insistence on taking our latest, incomplete ship to the Council. I have my Flagship _Winter's Rage_ and the battle cruiser _Putingrad_ on standby near Shanxi to take you instead."

They reached the shuttle bay, as his shuttle and two decoys waited for him to board and depart.

Bowman sighed, "If Conner was still here, he would have this ship running with all the trimmings, except for the captain's chair…" He looked to D'gona, "But we do what we can and with what we have."

They arrived at his shuttle. "So there's no changing your mind?" asked Darya.

"No," he took a step into the shuttle, "But I would appreciate a rescue in wait. Talk with Woods and have the fleet ready along the border. The Council won't be touchy with me as long as we have enough ships ready to march across the quadrant."

She sighed and gave up, "Of course, Jonathan."

He chuckled as he entered the shuttle with D'gona, "Thanks Anna."

She watched as the bay doors opened and each shuttle departed towards the ship. She looked back at the tablet as the crew continued rushing around the bay when Admiral Woods walked in and up to her with a different info tablet in his hands. He handed it to her and she took a look at the order and its content, surprised.

"Get Admiral Hackett on the line. We're going to need his ships as well."

* * *

"I thought you weren't coming?" asked Bowman as the shuttle flew in formation to the ship yard.

She shook her head, "I won't be, Jon. We wouldn't want to bring up why I helped your sailors on the Citadel. I'll be coming back with the shuttle before the _Voyage_ leaves."

Bowman looked out the shuttle's viewport to the new _Exodus_ ship, "Isn't she a beaut, though?"

"I do not think the namesake of the ship would appreciate his name on man's latest warship."

"A generation ago, we looked onto the stars with wonder and curiosity. A small spec in the background of the cosmos. Now the galaxy grows smaller. Yet it remains as awe inspiring as ever, and scary as hell."

She turned to him, "So… will you tell the Council?"

He looked back at her, "Of that? Heavens no. They wouldn't believe us. The Council is not even ready for us. And they are certainly not ready for what destroyed the Protheans."

"Then how can you fight these things without the Council's help? The Terrans alone can't stop them. Not even the Protheans could."

Bowman laid back in his seat and thought about that.

"The Terran nation doesn't know. And yet, look at what we've achieved. If we do this right, we can ready the Council and the rest of the galaxy without them knowing."

"There are dangers trying to get people to do as you want."

"We have no choice. We must act."

The shuttles banked off and towards the shuttle bay at the back of the ship, between her four massive anti-proton thrusters. As they lined up to dock, Bowman opened up the holo projector on the dashboard.

"What do you think?" he said with a smile.

D'gona looked at the hologram, an image of a large station. It was shaped to that of a large dome with several cross-intersecting rectangular bays underneath it.

"So this is the new station I've heard rumors about."

"Our new capital of Arcturus Station," replied Bowman with a boost, "Once complete, we will have a capital worthy of a spacefaring nation."

"A bit much," she giggled, "Are you and the government compensating for something?"

He gave out a chuckle as he looked at her in surprise, "Me? No… the government, what are they not trying to cover up?"

She smiled and shook her head. "You humans are more transparent than I thought."

"Really?"

"Well, normally, an idea like your Freud had has no place in modern galactic psychology. But your race's existence seems to validates his claims."

Bowman looked at her, "I wouldn't have guessed."

"Clearly the Council is going to be at a disadvantage. They truly never saw the likes of Humanity."

"But I need every advantage." Following autopilot, the shuttle began to make its way through the large shuttle bay towards its docking port. "What can you tell me about the Councilors?"

"Ah yes, the three of them, well…"

* * *

 **Part 3:**

 **Confederation President** **Ja'hal Derik  
Khar'shan - First Day of Diplomatic Talks**  
 **July 1, 08:30:00 UTC**

Below the bright orange sky of Khar'shan, a convoy drove down the main avenue of the new provincial capital of the planet, Sochon. Once a major populace zone, the downtown area was a bit empty. Being the beach head for the Marines weeks ago, the civilian population had since fled to refugee camps, but has started to return. It was still well guarded with scattered Terran Army soldiers patrolling about or setting up guard posts and road stops. There was light foot traffic from Batarian civilians that stayed in the city as approved auxiliary support.

They were heading to the regional capital building, which was set up as the main building for the capital of the Confederation, before the whole of Batarian space could be properly annexed into the Federation. A large rectangular building, it showed a unique appearance of Batarian rigid design infused with the more smooth Asari architecture, part of the old Hegemony's habit of taking other races' design for their own purposes and claiming it as their own. Outside was a plaza, a large broken water fountain in the center being repaired by civilian contractors as soldiers patrolled the area.

As a soldier stood at the curb, waiting for the convoy to arrive, a civilian Batarian mother and her small daughter were walking down the sidewalk. As the mother let go of her daughter's hand to tighten her coat against the cold breeze, the daughter ran off and towards the soldier. Standing right next to the Terran, she looked up at the nearly two-meter-tall soldier in cladded power armor in awe, her shadow eclipsing her. The soldier noticed and looked down at her. The solider then knelt down to almost her height and took her helmet off, uncurling her short hair. The Batarian girl looked in awe at the human's smooth face, reaching her small hand out to feel her brown hair. The soldier smiled and petted her, then reached for a side compartment in her armor.

She pulled out a small bar, her W-ration chocolate bar. The girl looked at it in wonder as the solider handed it to her. Noticing her unfamiliarity, the Terran pinched the top of the bar wrapper and pulled, exposing the brown bar inside, but the girl looked at it with unsure curiosity. The solider demonstrated, breaking a small piece off and eating it. The small girl did the same, taking a small piece off and tasting it in a cautious manner. After a moment, she then ripped the rest of the top off and took a large bite of it, chewing it with blissful pleasure. The solider smiled, clearly the girl had never tasted chocolate before, let alone the more tasteful versions like civilian brand candy or a delicious boiled chocolate potato. The soldier sent her off back to her mother as she placed her helmet back on and turned to wave at the arriving convoy.

The convoy stopped in front of the regional capital building. From the forward center truck, President Derik got off, a squad of B7s guarding him as he was accompanied by Brigadier Petrovsky. Derik had taken to wearing a standard Terran business suit with a blue tie, the brigadier in his formal uniform.

"Here we are, President Derik. Terran government officials should be setting up shop inside. Should be superficial renovation at this point," said Petrovsky. They walked up through the plaza outside, covering their faces from the plume of air as shuttles began landing nearby.

"Do you have any news on the reconstruction of the old capital," asked Derik.

He replied, speaking louder as shuttles full of high ranking government officials and their guards landed around them, "The Congress was supposed to pass the budget for the General Zhao's Reconstruction Plan. But with the upcoming diplomatic contact with the Council, many in the House are now pushing for a new military budget to ready for a war with them instead. There does not seem to be any confidence for peace."

"But your president is going himself to the Citadel. Do they not hold trust he can broker peace?"

"Many war hawks are counting against it. War with the Council would push the economy into full wartime production. Our gains from conquest would pay for it and reenergize the economy."

Derik looked at him in bewilderment, "Establishing economic treaties and trade routes are far more beneficial to both sides."

He shook his head, "But alas, many did not support the construction of our military just to make peace. If we wage war, it is not because we have to, but because we can. Besides, a foreign war would act as a better distraction to the human rebels than a peace treaty."

"Such thinking was what caused our war with the Turians."

"Such thinking was what caused the Great Revival."

They began climbing up the stairway to the building. At the footstep above were several former Hegemony officials, chained up together with plastic handcuffs and a light metal chain around their waist, begin marched down by several Army MPs. Derik and Petrovsky didn't pay any mind to them until the leader of the chain gang noticed Derik and called out.

"Derik, you traitor!"

He looked over, noticing the prisoner, "Excuse me?"

One of the MPs walked down to the prisoner and rifle butted him with his lancer, "Get back in line!"

"Officer, wait," Derik waved the officer away and walked over to the Batarian, "Pretin?"

"Ha!" He spat out the blood from his mouth, "So you do remember me?"

Petrovsky asked, "Is he a high ranking official?"

Derik chuckled, "No, not really. He was one of Kavos' underlings."

"And you were his trusted advisor. Now you're selling out our race for this two eyed, fur ridden creatures!"

"Kavos and the likes of you got what you deserved. I warned him the Hegemony was weak. If not the Terrans, the Turians would have certainly renewed conflict and pushed for our destruction. We should be fortunate the humans had no existing grudge against us."

"And you think they're here to 'liberate us?" he snarled at the man, "They are set to conquer the galaxy! First us and those suit rats, then the Council and the galaxy. You're nothing but a damn puppet!"

Derik socked him across the face, the prisoner falling a few stairs down and dragging the rest of the gang as one of the MPs laughed at the sight. Derik picked him up and held him by his orange collar.

"I am no puppet; I am no slave! And neither is our race to anyone. With the Terrans, I will lead our people back to greatness. His mistakes nearly cost us our race. I don't make such mistakes."

The prisoner coughed a bit and spoke, "The only mistake Kavos made was putting you in prison rather than killing you for your treachery."

Derik stared him down, tilting his head to the right as a show of superiority. "You're right. Kavos was weak. I am not! That mistake cost him his head." He pushed the prisoner away and turned to the MP officer, "What are they doing here anyway?"

"They were doing work detail at the Capital building. We're now sending them to the city outskirts to work on some new golf course being built by Mr. Ashland."

"They should be shot."

The officer smirked, "Like they'll get a fair trial in Federation or Council space."

The MPs got them moving again as Derik and his escorts continued to the top. As the guards reached for the doors, Petrovsky reached for his ear piece, an incoming communique coming through. He walked away as he heard the situation.

"Wait, where? Tomras Sector? Move Oscar Company into position to intercept. Get word to the Army Air Force, deploy a strike force. Coordinate with the Naval 3rd squadron for orbital observation," He turned to Derik and nodded to him, "We encountered Hegemony resistance in the neighboring providence. I need to head back to HQ to handle the situation. Excuse me."

As the brigadier left, Derik entered the building. He was greeted to the sight of a busy lobby full of humans, rushing about with equipment as they continued setting up offices and renovating the interior of the building. As he walked in, he looked up past the atrium inside and watched as some workers removed the old banners of the Hegemony from the third floor balcony, the red and yellow banner falling to the ground to be collected as the blue Terran flag was tied into place and draped down across the balconies of the atrium.

Derik continued to his office, taking an elevator to the seventh floor. Two of the Berets stayed at the elevator as the other two continued with Derik to his office. As he walked down the hallway, he saw as workers replaced the walling from a crimson shade with wallpaper of vanilla white as others tore out the drywall of columns that mimicked Asari architecture with custom plasters of classic Terran Roman design. With his education, he noticed how they bore a resemblance to ancient Turian styles during their ancient Carthana era. One worker was even removing the old portraits of the various Chairman of the Hegemony, replacing them with equal sized, oil painted canvases of Terran Presidents and Founders. After a short walk, he reached his office, the doors wide open as workers came in and out. His secretary stopped him for a moment to discuss paperwork and documents that needed his attention.

* * *

"Ah, look at that, Edward. So crude and unorganized," said Julian as he knocked on the exposed drywall in Derik's office.

"Yah," Edward gave the wire in his hand a thug, part of it popping out of the wall and forming a crack, "Such amateurs."

The two of them stood there, dressed in office casual attire with matching blue and yellow ties, staring at a piece of wire sticking out of the drywall. Around them on the floor was an assortment of equipment they have yanked out the room, hidden spy cameras, wire taps, microphones placed in there by the Hegemony Department of Internal Security. Julian grabbed part of the wire and they both pulled. After a few thugs, the wall gave way and they fell to the ground as the wire burst out of the wall, creating a large, uneven crack across the wall from bottom to top.

"Like it's that hard to implant a wire properly."

"I saw better craftsmanship from the damn Nazis."

As they checked the wall, Derik walked in as his remaining guards stood at the door way. Noticing them, he handed the tablets and papers back to his secretary as he walked over to investigate.

"What's going on here?"

They both turned to him, Julian responded first, "Ah, hello President Derik."

They reached into their coats on a nearby guest chair and pulled out their badges. It was a standard silver coated badge with the FCC logo of the letters 'FCC' with an image of a shield and an old style antenna behind it. Below were their ID numbers and the motto in old Terran Latin, 'Scito et Protégé'. Derik stared at the words for a moment, surprised he understood them. But to him, he was wondering why they had an ancient Turian language on their badges. "I am Agent Julian and this my partner, Agent Edward. We are here on behalf of the Federal Communications Committee."

"The FCC? What government organization is that?"

"The FCC, Mr. President, is the main regularity group in charge of regulating and monitoring all communication across the Federation. From assuring consistent communications across the galaxy to monitoring the airwaves to make sure they uphold Terran morality, it's one of the largest departments in the government."

"And what are they doing here on Khar'shan?" asked Derik.

"We are part of Operation: Double Take, which is to clear out all these obsolete Hegemony surveillances equipment, like wire taps, camera, spy satellites…"

Edward gave a short laugh from hearing that, "Oh those spy satellites are just hilarious. They're like those used by the American NSA during the Civil War. Child toys really. Plan on taking one home as a souvenir for the kids."

Derik was still confused. Suddenly the wall the agents were working on collapsed, revealing an obscenely networked amount of wires. He took a deep breath, starting to become upset.

"I need to do a video meeting; can you finish this later?"

They looked back at the wall. A few scattered holes appeared as a crew in the adjacent room began pushing Terran Aethernet wires through the holes.

"Uh, no," replied Julian, "We need to cut these wires and finish other projects. Just go ahead. We'll be quiet."

"But…"

They both started waving their badges widely at him as they threw a fit. "We're the freaking FCC! We need to do our job, for Terra!" yelled Edward with hysteria.

Derik grumbled as he walked to his desk, "Damn neurotic pyjacks…" He walked to his new desk and leaned over to activate the main comm system. Through his watch, he directed his call through the newly established Terran hyperspace comm sat system, bouncing back to Federation space. He waited, leaning and sitting on the front of his desk and watched as the FCC agents pull out old Hegemony Department of Internal Security hardware. His call finally went through, a holo screen appearing in front of him as workers continued in and out of his room.

He greeted him with a deep tone chuckle, "Dov'tok. Good to see you."

Dov'tok nodded, onboard the _Sagen's Voyage_ as it made its way to the border. "Same here, Derik. Was there something you needed?"

He crossed his arms, "I wanted to inquire about the diplomatic mission. What's your sit rep with the diplomatic convoy?"

Dov'tok took a deep breath and thought about it. "We still need to do our briefing with President Bowman. From what I can tell, he seems adamant about conducting the peace talks personally. I and the rest of the appointed ambassadors will be accompanying him."

"And he wants peace, correct?"

"Of course," responded Dov'tok, "But that isn't the issue here. From my reading of the entire diplomatic convoy, they are unsure what peace will bring to them."

Derik looked at a tablet on his desk, "Have you discussed the regular First Contact procedures of the Citadel Council with them?"

Dov'tok looked through the data on his screen in his room. "The assembled diplomatic corps is working with what knowledge they gathered from us and the Quarians. But from what I'm hearing, Bowman has yet to meet with the different committees. Just with his military and advisory board."

He crossed his arms and thought about it. He grew a bit worried of the growing lack of preparation.

"Do you think… if the Council actually offers it to them… they would join?"

"Join the Council? The only reason Kavos kept the Hegemony in was the threat of another war. Quarian-Council relations were already low before Ambassador Ghirn and her friends went on Pilgrimage. Just counting what the humans have done in the past month, I doubt the Council will let them anywhere near them more than what is necessary."

"Still, never has a race of equal power and impression as Humanity not joined after contact."

"Joining the Council…" Dov'tok smirked, "After learning more about the humans, I've determined they find it hard to see it happening. Much of their prevailing culture comes from one of their old nation states. The idea of freedom and independence is a cornerstone of the Terran way. They won't give it up to the Council just because they were around while Humanity was learning of the idea of civilization."

"Every major race in the galaxy is a member of the Council. Even with they're… uniqueness, surely they don't think they can stay out of the Council's reach just because they are adamant about their independence?"

Dov'tok responded, "Well, that same nation was the one that help lead the formation of each major unifying organization on Earth. The League of Nations, United Nations, United Earth, and the Federation itself. Most of which they were a key member of. They might expect something similar."

Derik grunted, "Even the Hegemony waited a century before getting an embassy. They'd be crazy to march right in and demand a…"

"Done!"

Derik looked over as the FCC agents finished up, somehow managing to get their white collar shirts covered in oil and sawdust with only five minutes of work. Gone was the old wiring, now bundled up on the ground with the rest of the gear. In its place on the inside of the wall was a single blue Aethernet cable, neatly stapled to the wooden posts inside, leading up to a small device screwed into one of the support beams.

"And what are you 'done' with?" he asked as he walked over, the holo screen and Dov'tok turning to face them.

The agents got around the small device, a compact grey box no bigger than the palm of most races' hand, and held their hand out of it in presentation.

"This, sir, is an FCC holo tracking sensor array!" said Julian with pride.

"You installed a sensor array in my office?"

They looked at him in surprise, "Clearly, you haven't seen the specs. This is a FCC Mark IX holo tracking sensor array. Using a powerful hologram matrix, this thing can listen into any and all conversation in a crowd of a thousand people, 3D records all movement within a quarter-kilometer of the device, and upon detection of an electronic device with internet connection in that radius, like a person's watch or tablet, it would send a signal to the nearest FCC operation server, search all devices in the area based on its IP address, find that device and download all data deemed necessary."

"And it's PoA, Power over Aethernet. Simple to install for all your civilian surveillance needs…"

Derik charged at Edward and grabbed him by his white collars. "You removed all the old Hegemony surveillance gear just to install Federation ones instead!"

Edward grabbed hold Derik's arms to lift himself up a bit to breathe, "Yes, of course. We're the FCC."

"You said your job was to monitor civilian broadcasts!"

He released himself, dusting himself off before replying, "That's just one of our jobs. Giving ratings to television shows and censoring indecent material minor work, normally done by a team of college interns and an overpaid AI. Since the Great Revival, we have been placed in charge of deploying the Federation's 'Guardian Angel' civilian surveillance system. Nearly all thirty and a half billion citizens are under its umbrella."

"Why would the Federation have a massive civilian surveillance system?" He looked at them in bewilderment, "Such a program violates everything your nation stands for!"

Julian smirked and waved him off, "What was a violation of everything we stand for was that we allowed the Revival to happen! Even with the Arcadia terrorist attack, we lived in the greatest era of peace in human history. With our 'Guardian Angel', we have seen a dramatic drop in crime, criminal cases once considered cold were solved with ease, organized crime and rebel groups have nearly disappeared, and from the heart of New York to the frontier town of La Brisa on Meadow Prime, people live in safety."

Dov'tok turned to them, "How can such a program exist? What about Freedom to Privacy? This violates not only your fundamentals, but is bound to violate your established rules."

"Don't be preaching our constitution," said Julian, rolling his eyes is annoyance, "Not only is there no such provision in the Constitution protecting freedom of privacy, but the FCC was required to since the Great Revival, by the 34th amendment, to establish and maintain such a system. Our freedoms of speech, choice, free thought, and all that have only been possible by making sure we know who and what is a threat."

"It's immoral!"

"It's necessary!" Yelled Edward. The FCC agent lost his cool. He was exasperating, staring down the Batarian, "If we had had this program decades ago, we could have prevented the Great Revival! What was immoral was that we couldn't stop it!"

Derik and Dov'tok looked at him, confused, "What of the Revival?"

"You don't understand, you four-eyed bastard! Living in your Orwellian nightmare. When we grew up, humanity had finally united! The homeworld was finally united! We grew up on the idea that humanity would never again spill the blood of a fellow human, that we would live in peace, together. But I was there damn it! I fought on Earth in the Great Revival. The whole world was engulfed in war!" He clenched his hair and walked around in a circle, his breathing heavy and irregular as he broke down, "We learned in school of the past wars. Of the Holocaust, of the millions who died in the 20th and 21st century. But God damn it, it was like the world must sent back in time. Everyone was fighting each other. Humanity devolved!"

Julian grabbed hold of him, trying to calm him down. Edward struggled a bit, then embraced Julian as Edward buried his head into his shoulder and cried. Julian turned to Derik and continued. He was calmer, but shaken up as well from thinking about it, "Edward was a soldier in Williams' army. He was there at the end of Operation Lionheart, when they dropped the first 'Fallen Angels'. I was part of the CBI at the time, part of a taskforce sent to Earth after the war, hunting down war criminals from the various fractions. The war was short, yes. But our ability to kill made up for it. Half a billion died in just two years. Another half when we bombed our own world to stop it. They don't talk about, but two more billion died during the order restoration. But no one ever cared for them…"

Edward back away from Julian. He took a deep breath and wiped his eyes, calm once more, though his tear soaked red eyes and the vibration in his voice said different.

"Earth had ten, but the colonies had over fifteen. Humanity wasn't endangered." He gave a sarcastic chuckle, smiling, "When the first billion died, it showed us that fine line, the number of people that can die and we would still care. But everyone else? Everyone who left for the colonies left for a reason. The war was a tragedy, but we didn't seem to care. They looked ahead to the future. As far as anyone out there cared, we could have loss the homeworld all together and no one would have really cared… No one would have cared. Just statistics, really."

Julian sighed and looked back to the hardware, "And that's why we have things like the 'Guardian Angel'. We have to stop something like it from happening again. I'm not sure what was worse, billions dying or billions not caring. Some of us cared, determine never to let this happen again. After the war, Bishop himself gave a name to it, _Per Aspera Ad Astra_. Through hardship to the stars. Most of humanity look to the stars, but some of us have to care for the hardship we will endure."

"But do the people not care for actions like this? Secrets of the nation?" asked Derik, utterly confused. "

"They don't care! Maybe, I hope anyway, is that when you experience something like the Revival, you just try to deny it. So we say, let them. We will safeguard the nation. We will keep the idea every Terran grew up on alive. We will ensure all of humanity and our united people stay resilient to all threats. Not all of us can fight. But those who can must do whatever they can to win. Everyone wants the dream to stay alive. After seeing the Revival, no cost is too great."

Derik shook his head, amazed. "That is a very slippery slope you stand on. Many made the same excuse."

"Many have. But we are out of options." Julian directed Edward back to the wall to finish up. He nodded and they walked back. On Derik's end, from inside his room, an alert came through from the communication device on his desk.

"All diplomats of grade level one, please head over to the Proxima meeting room on deck three immediately," said the speaker of an officer from the bridge.

He rubbed his upper eyes in frustration, "President Derik."

Derik turned back to the screen, "Yes?"

"Was there anything else you wanted to discuss?" asked Dov'tok as he gathered his materials.

He looked back at the men from the FCC as they finished adjusting the spying device.

"No… Just do what you must to secure the peace. I have no intention of my new nation getting ostracized from galactic politics…" Derik looked back to them, "It's clear they have too much on their own plate as is. Derik out."

Dov'tok nodded to him and cut his line, the holo screen dissipating afterwards. He sighed and exhaled, stressed. He walked back to them as they finished up. They turned back to him. Derik was amazed, they were back to their weirdly cheerful selves.

"Don't be so worried," said Edwards with a grin, "Everything we do is only for a greater good. If you nothing to hide, then we're good."

"Besides, all this data goes to a couple of AIs that sort between useful information and regular ranting. You can still do and say whatever you want, as so," Julian flipped the device on and spoke into it. " _Bowman is an ass hat_!"

Edward spoke next, " _Vetrol is_ _fat arse_!"

Julian laughed, " _Bishop is a pussy_!"

Edward turned to him, shocked, "Hey, I liked Bishop…"

Derik watched as the two stared down each other. In a moment, they began fighting each other, Derik quickly stepped back as they threw punches at each other, arguing over their support or opposition for the former politician. After a short moment, they fought their way out of the room, down the hallway.

As he rubbed his eyes, a team of contractors rushed in with insulation and a new prebuilt wall and installed it at the missing section where the surveillance equipment was, covering it up. After a quick installation, they left, leaving a wall matching the new interior of the room. A final worker came back in, carrying a portrait. He drilled a screw in and hung up the portrait, an oil canvas of President Bowman, before leaving as well.

Derik groaned as he walked to sit in his chair. As he sat down, he stared at the portrait, its eyes locking onto his.

"I don't know which is worse, living under Hegemony oppression, or the hell the Federation are going to put themselves in."

* * *

 **Part 4:**

 **Ambassador Miri'Ghirn  
FSS _Sagan's Voyage_ \- First Day of Diplomatic Talks** **  
July 1, 2167 09:00:00 UTC**

Miri stood inside the small decontamination chamber inside her room onboard the ship. She was finishing buckling up her suit and locking her hood into place. She was in a brand new suit for the diplomatic mission, replicated by the humans to her exact specifications. The main body was pitch black, her arms, hips, and head scarf a bright white cloth, with flowing spiral black lines like the blowing of the wind. It was just like the one she saw in an old photo of a relative of hers from before the Morning War. While she doubted anyone would notice, she was hoping one particular diplomat on the Citadel would.

As she walked out, a small tone played, the alarm for her room's comm system. She walked over to the screen in her room and answered it. Miri was momentary surprised by who it was, happy she called. On screen stood Admiral Raan, on the bridge of the _Brighton_.

"Shala, how good it is to see you," said Miri as she sat down on a nearby chair.

Raan nodded, "I had hoped to speak with you sooner. I was reassigned to Admiral Roland's fleet and wasn't able to talk to you until now."

Miri looked at her, noticing her new suit. She wore a hood similar to her old one, a thin stripe pattern, of dark and light tan. She wore over her new suit, however, her new Naval uniform of the formal blue, with the same golden epaulettes and golden outline as the first Terrans she had ever met. _Just a month later_ , she thought, _and now my niece is one of them._

"How is your new suit?" she asked.

Raan adjusted her shoulders, stretching out her suit and overwear uniform. "It's good. A bit tighter than the old one."

Miri noted, seeing as Raan's slim form and shape seemed tighter, even with her uniform over her suit. She then noticed her right collar, four golden pips inside a rectangular golden bar.

"A full admiral?"

"Yes," she smiled and chuckled a bit, "They transferred me to Roland's personal staff. I still find it amazing that a race this young can build ships like these."

"They have no intention of stopping either."

"Yes, well. Koris got assigned to the Fourth Fleet with Gerrel. I heard he insulted the wrong admiral and only got vice admiral instead."

Miri smirked, "I still remember why he got sent of to Pilgrimage early... It makes me wonder, what happened to that friend of his?"

Raan thought for a moment, "You mean Rael? He's doing fine."

"What happened to you two?"

She spoke out, her face blushing, "Auntie! He was just a friend. He has a daughter now. Such a nice little girl. It feels weird whenever I see her and she calls me 'auntie'."

Miri giggled at her niece's problem, "Oh my, how you have grown. I can still remember when you were a small baby, wrapped in white sheets as you slept inside an enclosed dome in the med bay."

Raan sighed, "How time has gone by… Auntie, about Admiral Vali."

"His loss… was an unfortunate tragedy. But we, as a united people, will endure," she replied seemingly emotionlessly. "As the humans say, we will be resilient."

"But how are you holding up?"

She looked at her, confused, "What do you mean child?"

"Auntie, you and Zaren were together for more than twenty years…"

She spoke out more harshly, "Zaren… Admiral Vali and I have been simply fellow admirals for the past thirty years. Nothing more."

"Oh… I see."

Silence filled the air. Raan couldn't tell if Miri really meant what she said, or was suppressing how she really felt. In Miri's mind, the same thought consumed her, but she tried to drag them out. As they simply waited, the comm system activated.

"All diplomats of grade level one, please head over to the Proxima meeting room on deck three immediately," said the speaker of an officer from the bridge.

"I must go now, dear. I hope to see you soon."

"As do I, Auntie. Good luck on the mission."

Miri paused for a moment, lost in thought before she responded.

"Of course. Thank you, Shala."

She ended the call and looked down in her seat. After a moment, she looked back up to her desk, seeing a small portrait, one of the few possessions she had that she had brought with her. Miri rolled her seat up and grabbed hold of it, looking down at the portrait. It was of a young Quarian boy with shaggy grey hair inside his bubble, grinning up at the camera that took his image.

Miri took a long deep breath and exhaled, her mask fogging up. Her vision was obscured from his face, as she began to tear up. She thought it was for the best, for the boy to not see his mother cry.

 _Thirty years gone,_ she thought, _I wonder what kind of a man you would have been today, Dorin._

* * *

They continued down the corridor, Miri and her guards. They rounded the corner and approached the conference room, where waiting outside was the Batarian ambassador, his own guards covering the other ends of the corridor. He leaned off the wall, walking over to greet her.

"Ambassador Ghirn, good to finally meet you," he said, shaking her hand.

She dismissed her guards, who walked back to block the other end of the hallway where they came from. "Likewise, Ambassador . . .?"

"Markov Dov'tok, for the Batarian people."

"Of course… I'm sorry; I haven't had time to read through our mission dossiers."

Dov'tok nodded, "I understand. I heard about what happened on Mars. My apologies on what happened to Admiral Vali."

"It's ok. We…all knew the risk involved in stopping Terra Prime."

They both leaned against the wall, waiting outside the conference room, "The humans are clearly new to having to deal with other races," said Dov'tok.

"What race is ever ready to encounter other life in the galaxy?" She looked up to the LED lights on the ceiling, then back to him, "So, how did you get assigned to this position?"

"I was a high ranking member of the resistance, working with Ja'hal Derik when we were both in the Hegemony government. He was arrested, but too popular to kill off. I stayed low, as a commissar of all positions." He chuckled and continued, "Went on to help with the Terran liberation of Camala."

"Really now?"

"Yes. I even had the famous Marcus Junius to help me do so."

"Junius… where have I heard that name before?"

"He once was a very vocal man against the Quarians, to say the least."

She curled her hand and rested her face mask against her fist. "Who wasn't? Now that I think about it, it might explain why I was given this position. If you knew my family's background…"

Dov'tok spoke, "I only hope to do my best. I was the ambassador to Palaven right before the war… I failed once. I won't again."

"We all have made mistakes. I only hope neither the Terrans or the Council does also."

"Ambassadors!"

They looked to their right, where they saw President Bowman, Terran Ambassador Anita Goyle and Human Ambassador Donnel Udina approaching them.

"Good to see you here," said Bowman as unlocked the door, "Let's begin this meeting before we arrive at the Citadel."

* * *

 **Part 5:**

 **President Bowman and Diplomatic Team  
FSS S _agan's Voyage_  
July 1, 2167 09:05:00 UTC**

They walked into the conference room, a long table extending across the room, with a scenic view from out the viewport that also spanned the length of the table. They sat at the close end of the table were Bowman took the end seat. He turned on a large holo screen in front of them on the table, which displayed an itinerary and objectives of the diplomatic mission.

"Before we begin, allow me to quote a great human from our past, whose ship today we use to make our voyage into the unknown:

 _For small creatures such as we, the vastness is bearable only through love._

We are on a mission of peace! Today, the billions upon billions that inhabit this galaxy will experience a change never before seen. Our duty is make sure it is a change for the better. For though we are but a small group, of a people far outnumbered by the amount of galaxies in this corner of the universe, we shall not fail."

The ambassadors applauded for him, but Bowman raised his hand for them to stop.

"Here's the plan people. We will be docking with the Citadel in one hour. We have arranged for a short news conference. I want them to hear it from us directly, it shall be our true first impression to the galaxy. Afterwards, we will begin immediate negotiations with the Council. Given our short five days here, we have three main objectives we will push to resolve. Goyle?"

Goyle sat up, pointing at the first item. "First, we negotiate the end of all hostilities. The Council has been attempting to send ships through Batarian space to reach us, so we need to get them to stop doing so. The second objective is to establish a defined border between the Council and the Federation. Our last objective is to establish formal relationships so we can begin pursuing other issues through secondary channels."

"Seems straight forward enough," said Udina.

"Yes," said Bowman, "If this was between two humans… Hell, even that's rarely the case. God knows what crazy customs they'll try to do when we meet. They could do one just to annoy us." He turned to Dov'tok and Miri, "What do you two know of the Council's procedure for First Contact?"

"Well," said Dov'tok, "The main points laid out seem reasonable enough. But after maybe the first two, the first thing they'll do is to offer us membership into the greater Citadel Council."

"Join the Council?" asked Goyle.

"Yes," answered Miri, "When the Council meets a new species that are space faring or on the verge of being fully space faring, they give them the option to join the Citadel community. Even the Turians were but an associated member before earning a seat. Almost all of them are barely space faring to begin with, so they take the option to get hold of Council technology."

Dov'tok asked, "What's the Federation's stance on First Contact and membership?"

Bowman turned to Udina, "Yes Udina, _do_ we have sort of 'Prime Directive'?"

Udina answered, sitting up, "Hardly, although the Founders actually laid out a basic groundwork for that, not that we realistically followed it. It was long after the war and First Contact, that we actually bothered to read through it to see how they wanted us to proceed.

We do not make contact with any race that has yet to develop FTL, unless a special case-by-case exemption is given. For small space faring races, we would give them the option to join, with certain conditions of course. If they peacefully refused, we would either recognize their territorial claim or grant them a fifty light year radius zone for them to call their own territory, and we'd expand around them."

"That's quite generous…" said Miri.

"Honestly though," replied Goyle, "If we ever did that and expanded around them, it only creates the situation where we basically strangle them, economically or politically, to join eventually. If human history has taught us anything, we get our way sooner or later."

"But what about major powers?" asked Dov'tok, "We rival the entire Council in terms of military might."

Udina answered, sitting up further in his seat, "We make full peace, or we use our current advantage to wage full asymmetric warfare."

Miri and Dov'tok looked at him in shock.

Miri spoke out, "Wait, if this meeting goes wrong, we'll go to war with the Council immediately?"

Goyle answered, crossing her arms, "Humanity learned early on that if you meet a rival superpower, it always proves more troublesome to deal with them as opposing powers than it would be to wage war and destroy them from the beginning. Right now, we hold a significant tactical advantage against the Council. If we don't make a solid peace accord, they could build up and we may no longer be able to win any future war."

Bowman sighed and added on, "I want peace. But I am already fighting the ingrained response from across the Federation. The Congress, the people, they view the Council as a threat. If I can't get a lasting peace treaty, I will be forced to placate their fears."

"I'm suddenly feeling the pressure to make sure this goes well," said Miri, taking several deep breaths.

"This is outrageous," Dov'tok stood up from his seat, "We cannot risk war! Do the people, the politicians not know where we are weak? A few mistakes could mean our destruction, and most certainly, the death of any chance of peace."

"If they are worth their weight as diplomats, the Council will be well aware of that fact as well." Bowman stood up and leaned over to them, "Lives are on the line. We will pursue diplomacy as much and as far as possible, understood?" He looked across the table, wanting a nod of approval from his ambassadors, which he quickly got, "Now that we're talking about it, what does Council membership entitle us to anyway?"

"For nearly all races, a basic membership is given. So basically on paper, we would be part of the Citadel Council. For most races, after a century or so we could be upgraded to an associated status, giving us an embassy on the Citadel itself," said Dov'tok as he sat back down.

"Wait, if we join them, we wouldn't even be able to open up an embassy for at least a century?" Udina looked at him in similar bewilderment, "What kind of diplomacy is that? How can we exert political influence without an embassy? We are a superpower, not a third world nation!"

"Figuratively anyway," Goyle chuckled as she spun a pen in her hand, "Third rock from the Sun."

Dov'tok added on, "There is also the matter of the Treaty of Farixen which we would be made to sign."

"The Treaty of Farixen?" asked Bowman as he sat back down, "What kind of document is that?"

"A treaty that limits the count of any ship considered a dreadnaught by Council military conventions. By my research, over 40% of our ships would fall in that definition," said Dav'tok, bringing up his copy of the document on the holo. "We could see the equivalent of whole fleets being decommissioned if we became a signee."

Goyle stood up the moment she heard that, looking to Bowman as she slammed on the table, "Bowman, we cannot be a signee of that treaty! Getting rid of our what, heavy cruises, battle cruisers and flagships? That would be a political nightmare."

"Nightmare?" asked Udina, "It would create a political shit storm across the entire Federation. We were this close to a civil war when the Fleet yard was attacked!"

"I'm aware Udina," said Bowman. He looked at the screen and the three main objectives.

"There's also Council AI Laws," said Miri.

Instantly, the AI Scott appeared, sitting in one of the chairs, "AI Laws?"

"Yes, the Council has a deep mistrust in artificial intelligence. They all but outright forbid research into the matter. Even though we created the Geth by accident, they kicked us out of the Council just for that."

Goyle smirked, "Yes, those bastards did that to you even though billions died in the war."

"They'll push we destroy every AI we have," said Dov'tok.

Scott spoke up, a bit scared, "I don't like that… at all!"

Udina added on, "Neither will every other human, Syntha or organic. They are ingrained in Terran culture. If they ask that, every Terran will view it as attempted genocide. If the war with the Hegemony was any indicator, we 'overreact' when someone tries to wrong us."

"We could still stand apart from the Council," said Miri, "For a power our size, it would be a first for them, but we could make that peace accord with them and exist as a separate power."

"But would that be possible?" asked Dov'tok. "Even the Turians joined shortly after contact thousands of years ago. And they rivaled both the Asari and the Salarians back then."

Miri replied, "The Krogans dragged them into the Rebellion almost immediately."

Bowman nodded, "Exactly. We didn't make First Contact in a more traditional sense and now they're completely shocked up by our existence. We have no extra-existing condition to join them… But if we sign some papers and walk off, they would want a complete return to normalcy."

Goyle rebutted, "The Federation may be willing to oblige, but the people won't, Bowman. Colonization and expansion has slowed significantly during the past decade. Once we are at peace, everyone will know that most of the main parts of the galaxy have been civilized and they will want to expand out on their own accord."

"How is this problematic?" asked Miri.

Udina answered, "Because the main body of the Terran people, the human race, will not remain as complacent as the other races. They don't need their government to expand and get in everyone's faces. Once they learn the galaxy is open to them, they'll go as they please, get in trouble with someone, and by law, force the Federation to intervene."

"Which is problematic if someone gets in trouble with one of the main Council races", said Goyle, "Intervention and conflict is guaranteed in time."

Bowman yelled out, "So we can't join the Council since it'll cause social unrest at home and we can't stand apart since it'll either lead to a cold war or we'll get dragged into conflict by our own people. What do we do?"

"It seems anything we do will still lead to some form of conflict with the Council," said Miri.

Bowman nodded, "We can't risk an unbalanced peace… Problems are ensured, but we must find the optimal solution. We make the best of the situation."

A speaker on the table turn on, with the commodore of the ship alerting them they were about to activate the relay leading to the Citadel. Bowman responded to thank him, before directing the team to look out the view port. The view of open space full of stars disappeared as the ship entered the mass-free tunnel. In that short second, they rushed through the blue spectrum tunnel, traveling thousands of light years, before the scenery quickly changed into the pinkish gas of the nebula where the Citadel was.

"We can worry about this another time. We get what we planned done. If the Council actually asks us to join, we will dodge the question until we can gain a better understanding on how to proceed."

"Isn't that why Bishop is here?" asked Goyle.

"He damn well better be useful."

They looked out the viewport again, seeing the Citadel come into view from a few hundred kilometers away as the ship positions itself in an orbit around the outer area of station. Several Council cruisers came alongside the ship to 'escort' her.

Bowman turned from the viewport before turning to his diplomatic convoy, "Let's head over to the corvette. Scott, let the civilian convoys know they will be following after us." He turned back to the ambassadors, who looked to him from the view.

"There's another line by the same man. _Extinction is the rule. Survival is the Exception_. Remember everyone, we will achieve this peace. You are Terran. Our very existence is nothing but."

* * *

Akachi continued monitoring the ship's movement from the command table in the middle of the ship. Finishing his alert to the President of the jump, he turned back, looking at the empty space between the table and the helms station on the elevated platform. He looked at the dedication plaque, then back at the empty space.

"I miss my chair," he spoke to himself.

An accompanying admiral overheard and commented, "We all feel like that, transferring to the 'armada' from 'star fleet'." He smiled and turned to the viewport as the ship approached the relay, "But I recommend you take a look at the view, Commodore."

Akachi walked over to the front of the bridge, staring out the viewport of the Federation's latest ship as it flew through the mass free tunnel and into the pink nebula. Once more, he looked in awe at the nebula of the ancient Protheans and at the Citadel when it came into view. With it came several Turian cruisers, but this time he was not worried.

"Commodore! We're being hailed!" said a comm officer in the console trenches.

"Good! Patch it on to the main viewers," he said, hoping for this moment.

"Yes, sir. Audio only though."

As the Turian cruisers took position on each side the massive ship, Akachi waited as the hail went through, auto translating with precision.

"This is Commander Flavian of Traffic Control. Please identify and register yourself." said Flavian, following his standard procedure, though he knew very well who they were and why they were here.

"Let's get it right this time," he signaled to open comms, "This is Commodore Akachi of the United Terran Federation starship _Sagan's Voyage_. We are here on a diplomatic mission and request clearance to approach the Citadel. Smaller vessels shall depart to deliver our diplomatic convoy afterwards."

Flavian looked to his screen, confirming his orders one more time, "… Confirm. Our ships will escort you to these coordinates."

"Ah, good. I wouldn't want a replay of last month." He chuckled, much to the displeasure of the Turian C-Sec Commander.

"Of course, Commodore," he said, wanting this communication line to end.

"Roger. Commodore, and former captain of the _William Clark_ , out."

Flavian moaned as he called for his replacement and took a break.

* * *

 _ **BBC: Elysium**_ _; Date Stamp: June 31, 2167 18:00 UTC_

 _ **Hero of Elysium to receive Congressional Star of Terra!**_

 _It has been announced by the staff of the Presidential Manor that Navy Lieutenant Commander_ _Perseus Stuart Roosa, the famed hero who defended Elysium during the opening hours of the Skyllian Blitz, has been chosen as the latest recipient for the Congressional Star of Terra._

 _The criteria for receiving the Star of Terra are as stated in Congressional Act 42 of the First Congress as follows, including the need to be a serving member of the armed forces with general consensus that the action committed is beyond the call of duty:_

 _1) While engaged in action against an enemy of the United Terran Federation._

 _2) While engaged in military operations involving conflict with an opposing force._

 _3) While serving with friendly foreign forces engaged in an armed conflict against an opposing armed force in which the United Federation is not a belligerent party._

 _Since First Contact and the war, over a hundred military personnel have been chosen to be awarded the highest military honor in the Federation. Twenty-five of these will be awarded posthumously, including famed Marine Admiral_ _Renaud Averil, who saved Star of Terra Recipient General Edward Williams from an assassination attempt by Hegemony officials at the cost of his own life_ _. Since the announcement of Marine Corporal Katan Hinata on June 28 as a recipient, who earned her medal when she was air dropped a thousand kilometers from her drop zone on Tarfard, liberated a plantation of slaves, and spent two days leading them back to Terran lines, this year's number of recipients overtook the amount awarded during the 2130s colonial rebellions of ninety-two as the second most amount of awarded receipts per year and conflict._

 _The most awarded year was during the aftermath of the Great Revival during 2149-2150. After the lifting of the information blockade, thousands of petitions from both the chain of command in the armed forces and from Congress led to an unheard of number of over a hundred thousand potential recipients for the Star of Terra. When President Vetrol attempted to sign an executive action to cut that number significantly, the Congress rallied in a nearly unanimous force to repeal it and passed their own bill to quickly approve nearly a fifth of the petitions. This resulted in over ten thousand awards being given out in 2149 and 2150 for the Great Revival, over nine-tenths of them posthumously. For the next two decades, several dozen more would be awarded every year._

 _Though Lt. Commander Roosa was unavailable for an interview on this news, news reports from an interview with his parents, Commander Hannah Roosa and retired Commodore Mark Roosa, who earned a Bronze Star during the Revival, stated they are very proud of their son for his accomplishments and heroism. Even before this news, Elysium Planetary Assembly had voted to honor Roosa and the many others for their defense of Elysium with a day to celebrate and honor their sacrifice._

* * *

 _ **United Terran Navy and Marine Corp.; Section Report: Military Tribunal Verdict; Case: Marine Lieutenant Reginald Edgar Mitchell Combat Decisions;**_ _Date: June 20, 2167_

 _ **Summary** : This military tribunal was brought into order following the events of the Battle of Torfan. During this time, Army General Williams was given command of Naval and Marine forces by Admiral Roland to eliminate non-surrendered Hegemony forces. This verdict will be in relation to the combat decisions made by Lieutenant Mitchell, where his platoon incurred heavy casualties while infiltrating a Hegemony command bunker. This tribunal will determine whether he is at fault for the casualties his platoon suffered under his command._

 _Listed here are the verdicts from four Naval admirals and a Joint Operation Army general. As this was a field made joint operation by Admiral Roland, this is considered a Naval Second Fleet operation. As mandated in article 85, the four first verdicts are issued first as an advisory to Admiral Roland, who's verdict will be considered as the final verdict._

 _Naval Fleet Admiral Anna Darya : _

_Given the report we received to the events that unfolded during the battle of Torfan, I issue my official advisory verdict that Lieutenant Mitchell was at fault for the heavy loss of life his platoon incurred. His tactical decisions resulted in his men performing unnecessary risks in order to complete his mission. I decline to issue a recommendation of punishment to the board._

 _Marine Admiral Dionard_ _Duarte_ _:_

 _I issue my official advisory verdict that Lieutenant Mitchell is at fault for what happened on Torfan. His leadership and tactical decisions are conduct unbecoming of a Terran Marine officer. Given his past record, it is clear to me Mitchell has not learned from past leadership mistakes, which at that point already claimed the lives of several cadets, and his actions here have done the same. I offer my recommendation that Mitchell be brought aboard a full court martial to determine final punishment._

 _Naval Fleet Admiral Helen Valenzuela_ _:_

 _It is my official advisory verdict that Lieutenant Mitchell is indeed at fault for the clearly unacceptable high number of casualties his platoon suffered in the Battle of Torfan. I, however, based upon reading the combat reports from the invasion force, have also concluded that his tactical decisions were at the time sound and that the rate of potential casualties was high to begin with. While Mitchell's leadership performance was less than satisfactory and is unacceptable, it must be remembered that his mission, as classified as of this date of June 20, 2167, was accomplished in spite of the overwhelming odds. My recommendation is that this fault is marked on his records, but no other action be taken against him._

 _Army General Edward Williams_ _:_

 _It is my official advisory verdict that Lieutenant Mitchell is not at fault for what occurred during the Battle of Torfan. Based upon our preliminary and after combat assessment of the enemy force, Mitchell and his platoon fared better than the analysis had indicated. He fought against enemy forces that not only matched his own fighting capabilities, but were also heavily supplemented with Hegemony Special Intervention Units that easily rival either my B7 special forces or Duarte's N7s. The simple conclusion is that his force should have been wiped out long early in the battle. The fact he and a portion of his force survived should be recognized. I recommend no punishment and if the board rules in favor of any negative impact on Lieutenant Mitchell, I will invoke section 357 of the Inter-Service Rivalry Act and place him under my command, in lieu of 'punishment' for his actions._

 _ **Navy Fleet Admiral Andrew Roland**_ _ **:**_

 _It is of my decision, based on the advisory verdict of my colleagues, that Lieutenant Reginald Edgar Mitchell, S/N 5838434-2948002-A3U1S5, is not at fault for the casualties his platoon incurred during the Battle of Torfan. While I view the loss incurred as heavy and morbid, Mitchell's performance was acceptable, given the extreme initial disadvantages he and his men were fighting against. To survive a clash with the enemy is worthy of some accommodation onto itself. To this end, I have reviewed Mitchell's performance in his application for N7 Special forces training and here by overturn Colonel Ahern's initial decision. Lieutenant Mitchell, for his service in accomplishing his mission against suicidal odds, will be allowed to be elevated to the N7 position and undergo training immediately. That is my ruling for this tribunal. I now call the tribunal to a close. God save the Federation!_

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

 _Does this story need more Krogan?_  
I respond by saying,  
 _What story doesn't need more Krogan?_

Seriously,  
They'll appear throughout the story,  
And in a bigger role near the end.

Things are only heating up,  
More characters from the game and universe  
will be making their way into the Terran's great gambit.  
It's a big galaxy out there,  
Room for everyone,  
But some would say otherwise.

Thank you to everyone for reading,  
From avid readers to fellow writers,  
new like me, and well experienced,  
My deepest appreciation for your interest in my story.

So everyone,  
Keep on following,  
There's more coming up!

And always feel free to review.  
If you got feedback, comments, or concerns,  
let me know.

If you have any questions that the story didn't answer,  
Go ahead and PM me.  
I'd be glad to answer them.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\


	20. 19: Speak Softly

**Chapter Nineteen: Speak Softly…**

* * *

 **Part 1:**

 **Team Shodan and Councilor Nerval** **  
Citadel Tower - First Day of Diplomatic Talks** **  
July 1, 2167 9:00:00 UTC**

"So you are saying that all the incidents in the past month, including the depletion of hundreds of millions of credits from banks across Council Space, data mining from military bases on the Council home worlds; the theft of ten, ten billion credit civilian ships by every Quarian pilgrim on the Citadel, one of those ships being owned by Sparatus' mistress no less, faking a report of a full military invasion of the Turian home world, and the crashing and subsequent deletion of 90% of the extranet was not caused by you two?" asked Nerval to Peter and Matt, as they sat in Nerval's private office.

"Nope. Though to be honest, we're not the only Terran AIs in Council Space. Also, why are you angry about that last one? Wasn't most of the data deleted pornographic websites?" asked Peter, acting utterly confused by Nerval's allegation.

"Yah," said Matt, "I not sure on whether to be disgusted or ashamed that your extranet has so much porn. The Terran internet is only 65%... The rest is just inaccurate encyclopedias and pictures of felines."

"I don't care that most of the data lost was that stuff!" said Nerval, slamming his hand on the desk, "I care because when it crashed, numerous servers across our space blew up from overloads in the network. Some comm buoys were even lost during the event."

"That must have been inconvenient, but you could always build more," said Matt.

"Those buoys cost a billion credits each."

"Oh…" Peter looked at him in shock, but then smiled, "Then we really didn't do it!"

Nerval shook his head and buried his face into his palms. In front of him, his office door opened, with Sparatus barging in. Matt and Peter turned around in their seats to see as well.

"Nerval, are you almost ready for the…" He paused for a moment, his eyes wide open. Then he pointed at them, "What the hell are these damn machines doing in here?"

Nerval slouched back in his seat a bit and responded, "I'm talking to them. Particularly about the incident concerning the stolen civilian ships."

"I know they did it! Our bio-readings read over a hundred Quarians on this damn station. Half were illegally here due to that crime boss Fin. In the three days leading up to the hijacking of those ships, Fin and his entire organization were found dead in their warehouses, billions of credits in supplies and weaponry were stolen and found delivered to a holding area below where the exposition was to be held; and a Quarian pretending to be that madman Vali tricked Matriarch Lidanya into going wild and destroying a portion of the Presidium during the event, which was being broadcasted across the galaxy! Then the ships were hijacked, with about a hundred of the richest people in the galaxy on board and every Quarian on the station happened to be no longer on board."

"So… you're saying they stole the ships?" asked Peter, shrugging his shoulders as he pretended to think about it. He then spoke out, pretending to have a realization, "Because that's discrimination!"

"Don't act coy, you damn hologram! I know you two helped them hijack those ships. When those ships left, our entire traffic control network was hacked and taken down while our fleet remained unaware of the incident. What was still working was preoccupied with the false report that you were attacking my home!"

"We deny all involvement in the situation," said Matt. "As for the last one, you really should fact check those things."

"And why did you disable our extranet? Do your leaders think they can get away with disabling our communication systems?" asked Sparatus, staring down the two holographic humans.

"We are..." replied Matt, trying to be sincere, "as surprised as you are over the massive extranet blackout a few days ago. Not only has it been damaging for you, but we lost contact with our operatives… poor Chappie." He was communicating to Peter digitally, his holo eyes locked on Sparatus, _"That dumbass Secondy can rot on Thessia!"_

" _Hell yah…"_ Peter spoke and commented to the Turian, "Have you considered upgrading your system? Overflow buffers might have prevented it… given what we heard."

Sparatus snarled at them as he waved them off, "I am done! You can tell your leaders the Council won't let any of these acts of aggression slide past us. If you really want peace, they will damn well pay for it." He charged out the room, murmuring to himself, "I don't even know why Tevos even wants to bother asking if they want to…" He left the room, still murmuring to himself as the door closed.

"Ask us what?" said Peter, overhearing that last line.

"Well, just like how you described your Federation, the Council has been the main unifying organization in the galaxy. Since we and the Asari founded it several millennia ago, we have brought virtually every space faring race in the galaxy into our united domain. Normally, our First Contact procedure would be to extend an invitation to join the Citadel community."

"And you were going to ask us?" asked Peter, chuckling at the idea.

Nerval thought about how to phase his response. Anything he said to them, he knew, was basically giving away the Council's plan to the Terrans. But letting them in unknowingly to some of their positions could also be helpful.

"Making contact with your race has been the most interesting and unique event in our history. The Council has fought enemies that tried to organize in large scale, Rachni, Korgan, and others throughout the years. But you have set yourself to become both our largest threat, and potentially being a highly valuable member of the Council."

Peter sat back and commented, "I can presume the Council would rather see us as an asset than a pain in the ass…ets."

"Many would. You have done more in a month than the Pilgrim Uprising, the New Rebellion, and the War put together in the last century. Bringing the full might of the Council to handle your… intrusion into our peace is expected of us."

"How does the Council plan to do that?" asked Matt.

Nerval responded, "That is for us to decide. But your diplomatic team is free to speculate. I can only presume you have enough information to make such… educated reasoning as to what we will do and why."

"Our diplomats will do so, for that is the basis of diplomacy."

"Naturally, I, my team, and colleagues will do the same."

"Please do. You are a smart man, especially so for a Salarian. Really, we want to help you, Councilor Nerval," said Matt.

"Now why would you want that?"

Peter chuckled, slouched a bit in his seat as he rubbed his chin. He then sat up, "Well… we just want you to avoid the same mistakes your fellow Councilors _are going_ to make when you meet out diplomatic convoy."

Nerval commented, "Tevos' and Sparatus' reactions have been rather polarized since you 'graced' us with your presence… and existence."

"You can't blame Tevos. She tries. Though be grateful our diplomats will be on their best behavior. Sparatus just has this naturally ability, you know to… bring out the worst in people."

An alert lit up on Nerval's omnitool. He checked it, being alerted that the Terran ship had appeared from the Citadel relay and was now en route.

Peter and Matt stood up, seeing it as their cue to leave. Peter nodded to Nerval, "Best we leave now. We all hope your meeting goes well. And it was good meeting you in private, Councilor."

"The feeling is… mostly mutual."

"Don't forget, if you ever to need to talk with us, please feel free to ask. For you, we've made a secondary channel to the Federation."

"I'll keep that in mind," said Neval. He hoped the need for it wouldn't come, not too quickly anyway.

"Of course… Oh right, we have civilians coming onto the station with the convoy. Did you make the arrangements?"

Nerval nodded, "Yes I did. Though I do not see it wise to have civilians when we are technically at war."

"Don't worry. He's harmless… and an idiot. But he is one of the richest men in the Federation. He might pump some dollars into your economy while he's here."

"He also has ties with our government. Maybe that's useful to you."

"I am well aware. Our best counterparts will be with them. An Asari Matriarch."

Matt chuckled, "Hopefully she isn't as crazy as Lidanya. That battle was insane…" Nerval turned and stared at him, "I heard… Now then, good day."

Their holo avatars disengaged, showing the small drones that they had programed to sneak its way to Nerval's office. The drones hovered to a trash bin before it self-destructed, leaving a pile of ash similar to what was found in the Presidium.

"Only hints and clue these Terrans leave… Best I pay attention to what happens in this meeting. They… they want me to know something." He looked over to the trash bin, some light smoke hovering from it. "At least they're considerate enough to clean up after themselves… most of the time."

* * *

 **Councilor Tevos and Matriarch Aethyta  
** **Video Call**

Councilor Tevos waited in her office for a call to go through. Weeks had gone by, but the Asari team had yet to devise any diplomatic strategy for the meeting with the Terrans. One thing had been made clear to them, the old rule book they used might not work. But they were in no position, thanks to centuries of overall peace, to come up with a new plan. But someone else might have had an idea.

"Uhg," said a voice. The video feed was lagging and had yet to load. Whoever was there was tired and quite irritated, like a Krogan disturbed from their sleep. "Who the hell is this? Collect call? I ain't paying shit! Oh, they're paying for the damn call. Fine, who the hell is it?"

"Oh, Aethyta. I hope I am not intruding," said Tevos, surprised by her immediate aggression.

"Huh, what? Tevos? Oh right, I was expecting a call from you." The video fed restored, showing her in her apartment on Illium, a mixture of anger and confusion. From the window, it was broad day light. She rubbed her blue forehead and smiled, "My apologies Tevos. I just got up. Several nights at the bar can do that to a girl."

"I… can presume business is up?"

Aethyta chuckled, Tevos unsure of if it was with or at her, "My boss is happy. No offense, but the Council's shit response to this has driven everyone crazy here. Combine that with the recent increase in pirate activity just across the border in the Terminus, and drinking is up."

"That's… good." she said, unsure how to properly respond to that.

"I wish they'd just drink a damn shot of Ryncol and be done with it. But, if you think pirates and unknown aliens are going to kill you, you might as well try all the fancy drinks. Sucks to be me… Oh right, you wanted something?"

"I sent you some information on those _unknown aliens_ a few weeks ago. I was hoping for your opinion on this matter."

"Right, that. So what do you want exactly?" Aethyta asked as she looked around for the tablet with the information.

"The Terrans are hours away from arriving on the Citadel. Since you once served as Hellesian University Professor of Scientific Progression and on the advisory board for Prothean Studies for the Matriarchs, maybe you can give me a glimpse as to who the Terrans are?" asked Tevos, looking at the clock in her office.

"Let me see," she finally found the tablet under some clothes, and something glimmering in the sunlight that Tevos was trying to deduce was either some random scrap metal or a passed out, naked Turian in her living room. "Yes, these Terrans, or humans, whatever, are an interesting bunch. You got these from intelligence reports?"

"We think. Our spies in Hegemony space were stuck behind Terran lines during their war with them. The information was dated immediately afterwards, but was sent to us after a two-week delay. Nerval and his group cautioned us that they might have been edited by the Terrans before sending it to us."

Aethyta skimmed through the data and her notes, all while kicking the Turian to get up, "I'm not sure it's edited, to be honest. You'd think they'd try to make themselves look flattering, like those from smaller races sending out messages into space, waiting for contact."

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is that some races would, in similar situations to this, make themselves to seem be so civilized, like we think we are, or strong and powerful, like the Turians or Krogan. What these aliens are doing is showcasing traits of both. And not in a manner that is particularly flattering or self-serving. Really, its informative, in a very weird way."

Tevos sat up, confused as her mind wandered off, "Nerval's agent said something similar in his report. If they are letting actual information of themselves get to us, what does it mean?"

Tevos looked back, noticing she was gone. She then heard Aethyta yell at someone and slam the door, then noticed the Turian was gone. Aethyta quickly hurried back. "I assume they are hoping their own history speaks for itself. They might be right in doing so. Many races go through phases of development unique to them, but there are normally similar stages every race has in common in their development in civilization. From what you've sent me, while events like industrialization and modernity happened to them as they did to nearly all of us, they also went through what are arguably nearly identical eras of history unique to each of the major races. From the city states on Thessia, the family tribes on Sur'Kesh, to the rise and fall of empires that occurred in the history of Palaven."

"Humanity has a diverse history? They must have undergone several millennia's worth of development to cover so many aspects of development."

Aethyta scoffed at the notion, "Please, they dated their events and they have a year similar to the galactic standard. Based on that, there are bound to be a Krogan on Turchanka that's older than their civilization." She sat down, "My, uh… expert analysis would be that they unknowingly, in a span of just a few hundred years each, and occasionally at the same time, tried out the social, economic, and political developments of us, the Salarians, and the Turians before settling down in some insane mixture of all three."

She looked at her, showing little of how surprised she was as she turned to look at the files herself, "Oh… that is interesting. In what way exactly?"

"They are a democracy, like us. But they have come to view it more as a means to an end then we do. Voting is a right, and a sacred duty to us Asari. On the other hand, it has become a burden. Their people are required to vote, but couldn't care less of what they're voting on, their leaders relaying on the underlining totalitarian democracy that exists to run their nation.

They had… well once had, a very powerful political structure of well-known political families, like the Salarians. Recently, according to them, a man named Jeremy from one family married a woman named Jade from another family, which led to the destruction of the families in politics. Since then, many new up-starters and self made humans have entered and taken control of their government.

Finally, they value militarization, like the Turians. Where the Turians emphasize the social aspects of militarization, with conscription and public duty, the humans place emphasis on its economic industrialization and national defense. The Turians are better trained and outman Humanity, having the will to fight strong. But the Terrans have a backbone to support any war endeavor. They can build fleets with ease, and they have plenty of aggressive humans to draw from. They abandoned the idea of war as honorable, and they are certainly able to abandon moral quiver if the fight demands it. Given the description of their last internal war, I find that the most pressing."

Tevos scratched her head. The description of them scared her, but didn't provide any clues for dealing with them immediately, "Any other traits, from maybe the other races?"

She shrugged her shoulders and turned to her tablet, "Well, they can get pissy, like my dad. But they're far more squishy and fragile, which is why they never came around to actually nuking themselves like the Krogan. They are virtually the opposite of the Elcor; individually or collectively, they can't stand still. It took the Elcor centuries to go from flight to landing on the moon. The humans did it in barely a generation. As for the Batarians and Quarians they annexed, Humanity suffered from many similar social events the Batarians had before they formed the Hegemony. Their weird form of democracy exists solely at this point to suppress any urges from doing the same. As for the Quarians, they are very adaptive in science and engineering, revolving on the principal of proving everyone before them wrong. They view ideas like the laws of physics not as a barrier to them, but as a dare for them to break it at every imaginable occasion…" Aethyta paused for a moment, making popping sounds with her mouth as she thought, "They also have hair." She giggled, "Not sure where to go on that, but they do refer to themselves as their version of the Krogan's pyjacks."

"Aethyta," Tevos stopped her. She was running out of time, and was in no way comforted by her report, "All you told me were some rather surprising and frightening facts and comparisons of these humans to us. But they are coming here. Now. What can I expect from them? From their leaders? What would they expect from us, want from us?"

"Look, Tevos." She noticed the glare of the sun on her screen and she turned to close her blinds forcefully with her biotics, "All races we have encountered in the galaxy work similarly at their core foundation. I mean, they look pretty much like us, their women anyway. These humans are no exception, and these files prove it. If you want peace, you will get it. If you want to lay out basic channels of communication, they will give it. The core diplomacy still works. It seems you and the others are simply shaken off your base."

She nodded, embarrassed, "You might be right. If they are like any organic lifeform, they can be talked to. Reason must have a common foundation in the galaxy."

"The AIs they have are an unusual situation. Not like Geth, in a manner of speaking, so it's beyond my…"

"I have… enough working knowledge on them. That, I can assure you," said Tevos. The only thing she looked forward to this meeting was flesh humans rather than holographic ones.

Aethyta looked at her, curious, "I'll take your word, Councilor."

"But we have so much to talk about in this short meeting they've arranged," she sat back in her seat, but was still tense, "The Council still has procedures to follow. And they may purposefully introduce factors that could destabilize the diplomatic process… I can't risk war with these aliens."

She sighed, "Well Tevos. By whatever twisted fate the Goddess set up, here we are. The Terrans, they are sensing weakness from us. But in actuality, they are afraid as well. This is the moment, prove your worth as a diplomat. React properly, and they'll play nice. Show weakness, and they'll take advantage."

"But if they see fit to do so. What should I expect from them?"

"Two things, Tevos. You most certainly shouldn't expect the answer you want. But, well… you may not get the answer you may initially expect from the Terrans either."

"Really?"

"I don't know what you're going to say or ask of them, but if the stakes are high enough, expect the answer none of us would see coming. Without actually meeting one, that's all I can say on that. One simply can't anticipate insanity."

* * *

 **Part 2:**

 **Spectre Saren Arterius, Spectre Nihlus Kryik, Matriarch Benezia  
Wards Dock  
July 1, 2167 10:00:00 UTC**

In the main dock wards, a crowd of spectators and reporters had gathered at the gate where the Terran convoy would dock. Beyond the massive viewports of the docks were the arms of the Citadel and in between them all was the still mysterious alien ship, broadside facing as the star of Widow shined from beyond the nebula and on it, casting a small but distinctive shadow onto the station. The crowd waited on, held back by belt barriers, leaving an open area in front of the terminal.

The size of crowd was matched in greater proportion by the C-Sec officers that took point at each of the main entrances and in the main walkways above. Mixed among the crowd were Spectre agents in disguise. Though many were in overall awe of the aliens from the Traverse, they couldn't take the risk of a few angry rouges attacking. Some Spectres were still angry about losing a few of their colleagues during the raid. The fact they were taken out by the alien equivalent to rejects didn't sit well with them.

For one Spectre, losing his arm wasn't sitting well with him either.

Saren patrolled the area, monitoring an area near the elevators where the Councilors would be coming down. C-Sec guards stood at their posts at each elevator door as Saren walked around, their combined presence more than enough to add to the feeling of safety. As he looked around, he noticed an Asari and another Turian Spectre walking up to him.

"Agent Arterius!"

Saren turned to them, "Nihlus, Matriarch Benezia," he said, surprised they were here. "What are you two doing here?"

They walked up to him, the other Turian saluting Saren, who saluted back and nodded to the Asari. Nihlus responded, "I was meeting with the Matriarch here to discuss her security detail."

"Oh yes… I heard," he said, disdain in his voice.

Benezia giggled, "Come now, Saren. There is nothing to work yourself over."

"This wouldn't be the first time I encountered the 'Terrans'. I let my guard down the first time around and I got this for my trouble." He pointed to his prosthetic left arm, a cybernetic connected arm molded after his old left arm. For all the glamor of being a Spectre, it came with little financial benefits; he had had to rely on his veteran's medical care to pay for the robot arm which was far less costly, and capable, than a cloned arm. He had too much pride though to ask for help getting one.

"Oh my, of course. Well, at least these Terrans are peaceful."

"The Council can only hope…" He calmed himself, "But of course, where are my manners. I don't believe we have met before, Matriarch. I have heard much about you and your work in your former position training the commandos on Thessia."

She nodded and turned to Nihlus, "I have heard much praise about you as well. And that does not include those from your fellow agent."

"If it were not for Saren, I would most likely have been kicked out of the military. The man is the reason I became a Spectre."

"If you had served with my brother, you would be a general by now. Nihlus here represents the future of Turian military doctrine. Smart, adaptive, risk taking…"

"Some would call that untraditional and foolish," commented Benezia in her natural role as devil's advocate.

"Some people are stuck in the past." He looked at his omnitool, noticing an alert. "Matriarch, are not the guests you are waiting for docking some time later in the dock above us?"

She replied, calm as ever as she looked to the crowd, "I just wanted to see their leaders for myself. From the crowd, many also are excited." She turned back to him, "I was also asked to talk to you about becoming your new mental health counselor. The Council wouldn't want one of their more prominent agents suffering from the trauma of losing his arm."

"A new arm would have helped far more," he grumbled a bit before continuing, "I mean no disrespect, Matriarch Benezia. But after seeing the head psychologist of C-Sec help the Terrans escape, I'd rather keep my distance."

She nodded, having a better view of his situation. "If you ever feel the need, my door is always open."

They nodded to him and walked off to join the crowd. Several other nearby Spectres joined Saren and they took position near the door to the central elevator.

* * *

The Councilors boarded the main elevator down to the Wards' dock. Surrounding them were their personal elite Spectre agents, many of who had been called back from their missions just to guard the Council since the main guard had been killed back during the raid on the Citadel nearly a month ago. As they rode down, different thoughts coursed through their minds.

Sparatus was just upset over the whole thing, the thought of trying to make peace was a poor joke to him. He made only enough of an attempt to hide his frustration, though anyone close to him could tell he was mad. Tevos was trying to maintain her calm composer, she would do what it took to get the peace. Hundreds of years of diplomacy under her belt, she was set to make sure it counted now. Nerval was also calm. The Terrans had only puzzled him, but he enjoyed the challenge he once had during his STG years. If anything, he was the closest one to being actually excited for the meeting.

The elevator stopped, opening up to the main dock area. Saren greeted them and took point for them as they walked out, he and the Spectres keeping a circle around the Council to protect them from any threat.

The Councilors noticed the large gathering around Dock E-30, where the corvette carrying the President and the diplomatic convoy was to dock. Sparatus was just as well angered by the fact the Terrans asked for this location to dock at. It was where the _Clark_ had been one month ago. Many reporters, taking photos and filming live reports to their news stations across Council Space. Barely anyone took notice of the Councilors' presence.

They walked to a designated area behind the crowd, directly lined up with the docking terminal. Much of the other side dock was cornered off, the Terran convoy was to head to a different elevator on the other side to join the Council to the Citadel Chambers. As Sparatus crossed his arms, murmuring to himself, Tevos and Nerval wondered why the Terrans had asked for a large open area in front of the terminal.

* * *

The small corvette, the _Tyson Protégée_ , departed the _Sagan's Voyage_. From the mothership, she flew the same path the _Thunder Child_ took, passing by the skylines of the five wards. Traffic had been removed almost entirely from the Wards to safeguard the convoy, several Salarian cruisers taking point and around the ship as it began its descent from the middle of the Citadel to the dock just below the ring of the Presidium.

In the presidio lobby where they would depart from, the diplomatic convoy was readying themselves, talking to one another as their security detail stood close by. Bowman stood at the front, looking out the viewport as the ship grew closer. In awe himself, he looked at the monuments far older than his race. Though he knew more of the Citadel's origin than the most experienced Prothean expert in the galaxy, he couldn't help but look at the city floating in space in wonder, the light from Widow brightening the pink and purple nebula behind it. It was still incredibly marvelous.

"Are you ready?" asked Goyle as she joined him. The ship began to slow down, presenting broadside as he prepared to dock.

He smiled, "I damn well better be. Here we are, at the heart of the galaxy." He turned back, noticing his Secret Service guards, and a small Naval band contingency of an electric guitarist with an amp on his back and a small choir of six. "I understand the extra security, but was it necessary just to bring them to sing _Hail to Me_?"

Goyle shook her head in amazement as well, "It was Bishop's idea. You are the leader of a powerful galactic nation. Knowing what you have been through, it's the least you deserve."

"No, it's the position that deserves it. Men like Anderson deserve it." He turned back to the viewport, the ship slowly lining up, "If Bishop wanted to, he could have been here instead."

"I know. I still remember the press, waiting back in '44 for him to announce his candidacy." She crossed her arms and looked out with him, "His wife's death must have really hurt him."

Bowman sighed, "The Revival hurt everyone. To think he supported my candidacy, when I was the one who ordered the first drop of the 'Fallen Angels'."

"The poor old man…"

"You know we're both older than him, right?"

Am agent walked over and alerted him, notifying him that the ship had completed docking. Near the hatch door, the light flashed from red to green, indicating clearance to open from the bridge. The ambassadors stayed back, the Secret Service agents and the flag bearers at the front, set to depart first.

Bowman and Goyle turned to watch as they prepared to open.

"Reminds me of when we made contact with the Drocians," commented Goyle as the tense atmosphere filled the lobby.

He rolled his eyes, "I'd rather not think of it. They shot at us and chased us out the Great Traverse."

She chuckled, "My word, how many secrets are we juggling?"

"Enough to get us impeached?" he replied, a grin on his face.

"Oh relax. If I couldn't get Vetrol, no one can get the famous Captain Bowman."

"I hope so, too."

* * *

 **Part 3:**

 **President Bowman and the Council  
Citadel Wards Dock  
July 1, 2167 10:15:00 UTC**

On the docks, the crowd watched as the door at the end of the gangway opened up, a decent amount of water vapor smoke forming from the difference in humidity. They saw a figure at the door, but it was too dark from their angle. From the door, it grew closer as it came down the gangway.

From the terminal, eight secret agents rushed out and took to their assigned points. Four took to the outer perimeter within the allocated space the Council had given them. All of them were dressed in their black suits, white shirts, and dark blue ties with matching polarized shades. They stood there, tall, straight, and at the 'hands ready' position. The crowd looked on at the two closest to them, fascinated by their first ever glimpse of a human Terran in the flesh. They weren't sure if they were some kind of guard, since they appeared unarmed and unarmored. The look was deceiving. From the neck down, they were actually in special power armor with a holo-cloak, making them look less intimidating than a soldier, though making their presence clear to all.

The other four took to the four spots within the reserved space. They were holding special holo-emitter beacons. Seeing the precise location of where to deploy them with their shades, they deployed the beacons and stepped back, taking the same position as the others as they turned their backs to the emitters.

From the holo-emitters, a massive hologram began to appear, taking first the outline of the object as it turned from images of lines and hard light to appearing like actual matter. It was done in a few seconds, what was once empty space and four random beacons was now a full, human style stage; elevated a meter off the ground with two side steps, several chairs along the back, and a podium in the front center. All the crowd looked at it in awe of the presentation. The Councilors' reaction was mixed. A few holo signs appeared near the belt barrier holding the crowd back, translated into galactic common language as 'No Flash Photography.' Spectres and C-Sec officers quickly informed the crowd to obey the sign, as to not cause a war due to bright lights.

Four new humans walked out in pairs of two. The crowd at the far end turned to see them as those in the middle looked over the stage. Each was dressed in the formal uniform of their branches of the military. The first two were a Naval captain on the left and an Army colonel to the right, marching in sync as they carried a staff flag each. One was the flag of the Federation, in navy blue as they saw during the raid. The second one had the symbol of the President of the Federation against a white backdrop, an image of numerous sharp and silver polygons forming the image of an eagle with its wings out, two silver olive branches coming from the bottom tip of the eagle's body and circling to the top. Finally, there was a blue five-point star behind it, the head of the eagle within the top point. On the left side of the point were bold black words, 'Seal of the President' and on the right side, 'United Terran Federation'.

They stopped just outside the terminal entrance, stepping to the side and turned to face each other, holding the staff of the flag in their left hand as they rested their right. Two more walked out, a Marine colonel and an Army Guard colonel. The Marine had the state flag of the United Sol. It was light grey, with the same eagle image as the other one, but it was mostly bright orange with a red outline on each shape. Behind it was the old UE symbol of Earth, outlined in black. Below were the words was in Terran Latin, _'Ex Cinere Surgimus'_ , representing the attitude on Earth following the Great Revival. The Guard carried the final flag, of the _Sagan's Voyage_. It was yellow with a quarter circle line representing the horizon outline of a planet. Behind that was the image of a point, shaped like a space vessel pointing to the right. Below it was the words, _'Semper Exploro'_.

With the four in position, the crowd watched to see what ceremony the Terrans would do next, images being taking of the whole thing by spectators and journalist as reporters spoke to their camera crew. Finally, a new person emerged.

It was Ambassador Dov'tok for the Batarians. He looked around for a moment, the first time he had been on the Citadel in decades. Though most didn't know, a few of the senior reporters were able to recognize the man. He had served a similar role as Ambassador for the Hegemony to the Hierarchy. After the incident on Aratoht, he made the claim of assurance that the incident was an internal affair. But the Hegemony muted his words by declaring war only days later, leaving the Turians blindsided by the war that claimed their beloved hero.

The next was a shocker, and everyone was able to recognize the Quarian Ambassador with ease in spite her different suit. Miri took her first step onto the docks. The last time she was here was during her escape with her friends off the Citadel. Reporters were in a bit of a frenzy; two controversial people were now part of the Terran diplomatic team. As they walked out, the flag guard saluted them, holding their hand to their head. Many of the Turians in the crowd took a curious note of the salute, including some of the Spectres.

Finally, the two human diplomats walked out, Udina for Humanity, and Goyle for the United Terran People. The crowd took keen observation of the human male in grey and female in blue as they followed those before them and walked onto the stage. Both maintained their posture, calm, collective, their eyes taking note of the crowd. As they walked up the stage, they noticed the Councilors in the back.

Goyle took to the podium as the rest sat down. The Flag Guards moved out and onto the stage, standing behind the ambassadors. The Naval band guitarist and the small choir walked out from the terminal and took to the stage, standing on each side from Goyle. The crowd grow silent, waiting for her to speak. Noticing everything was set, an agent signaling to her that the translator was online, she did just that.

"Greeting, ladies and gentleman, and all citizens of the Citadel Council. I am Ambassador Anita Goyle of the United Terran People. On behalf of the United Terran Federation, we thank you for welcoming us to the Citadel. And to all of you here, we thank you for being here today." She gave a moment of pause to let her words sink in. They weren't anything special, but coming from an alien like her, it was of utter fascination to the crowd, and more importantly for her, the Council media. She was happy, although what none of them, not even she, knew yet was they would be hearing a lot more from her. "It is my great pleasure to introduce, our democratically elected leader, President Jonathan Scott Bowman!"

The choir began to sing and the guitarist began to play the presidential anthem, _Hail to the Chief_ with his custom Naval strat _._ The crowd, already giving their full attention, was awakened in shock over the jubilant singing and the sound coming from the electric guitar. The Councilors were surprised themselves by the escalating show the Terrans were giving. Tevos and Nerval watched and listed on, but Sparatus simply rolled his eyes, annoyed. From the terminal, President Bowman emerged, flanked by his personal Secret Service guards. Not fully sure what to do in the situation, he smiled and waved to crowd as he had always done before. For them, they looked on in awe at the leader of the aliens, as some also did nearly a month before during the broadcast. As he walked to the stage, he felt a bit embarrassed by the loud and extravagant introduction. He didn't even know there were lyrics to the song.

 _Hail to the Chief, we have chosen for the nation,_

 _Hail to the Chief! We salute him, one and all._

 _Hail to the Chief, as we pledge cooperation_

 _In proud fulfillment of the Founders' noble cause._

 _Yours is the aim to make our great Terra greater,_

 _This you will do, from the Ashes of the Revival._

 _Hail to the one who shall lead us towards the stars,_

 _Hail to the President! Hail to the Chief!_

* * *

Bowman stood there at the podium, as he took in the view of so many alien news reporters and spectators staring at him, most of them in awe over seeing the leader of an unknown race. The guitarist and choir departed and marched back to the ship. He held his hand up just a bit, signaling for attention. He looked towards the back of the crowd, seeing that the Councilors were also in attendance.

"Hello," he said with a smile, allowing the attention of the crowd to flow by, as to make sure his translator was working. "My name is Jonathan Bowman, the democratically elected President and leader of the United Terran Federation!" He continued, noting to himself that he shouldn't expect some applause by people who have never heard of him. "We, on behalf of the Federation and the United Terran People, come in peace, and wish to end any and all hostilities between our governments, and to open up diplomatic relations. As a gesture to show we want peace, as I speak, our logistics fleet is coordinating the immediate return of millions of your fellow kind; civilians, prisoners of war, and freed slaves from by the now liberated Hegemony."

A decent size group in the crowd applauded when hearing that the Federation was bringing their liberated people back to them. But most, while impressed by the gesture, were still wondering what motive the Federation had in this.

"I have noticed," he said, knowing everyone here was set up in a ploy for image by the AIs ahead of time, "That there are many news reporters here today to document this historic interaction! Across the galaxy, many ask the question of who we are… it is no different than the questions we ask about the rest of the galaxy. Before I meet with the Council, and usher in a new era in galactic history, I would like to answer questions from the reporters in the crowd; for the Federation and the Terran people believe wholeheartedly in the free press, and we wish to clarify all misunderstandings directly to you, the citizens of the galaxy!"

All the reporters looked at each other, surprised by the opportunity. All of them shoved their way through the crowd to the front, both the Council Spectres and Terran agents keeping them back behind the barrier. They quickly raised their hands, lighting up their omnitools to get the President's attention. Many were quickly thinking of a question to ask, having thought that they wouldn't actually have such an opportunity to do so.

Bowman pointed, "Yes ma'am, the… Asari, in orange in the front."

"Thank you. Serena A'sora, Citadel News Network. My question is for clarification on what happened three weeks ago when your ships were seen on an apparent raid on the Citadel."

"Of course. As you all may know, an exploration ship of ours made First Contact one month ago. It is believed, that due to misunderstood communications, our ship was attacked by your Council Fleet, forcing it to fight back in response. Five days later, we launched a rescue operation, sending in our ships and finest agents to rescue and liberate the FSS _William Clark_. Next question? The Salarian in the green clothing."

"Doblin Jecter, Illium News. In relation to her question, what can be explained about the destruction of the _Destiny Ascension_?"

Bowman paused for a brief moment, then responded, "During the rescue assault, our flotilla task force was given strict orders to hold their fire. The lead ship, the FSS _Thunder Child_ , took heavy damage from constant fire from the Asari Dreadnought. When it secured the _Clark_ in its docks, it had sustained heavy damage to its engines and was surrounded by the _Ascension_ itself. With no option, it was forced to fly straight to its escape route, ramming the _Destiny Ascension_ in the process. It was… unfortunate that the ship was destroyed in the process."

"And how did your ships quickly enter and leave the vicinity of Citadel Space?"

"Our unique technology in space travel allows us to do so. All other information is classified. You there, Mr. Turian in grey in the back."

"Copernicus Ratavia, Palaven Military News. Most of the galaxy was made to watch your nation's inductance of two races into your government. One of them being this 'Batarian Confederation'. What can you tell us about your interaction with the Batarians?"

"Simply put. The Batarian Hegemony attacked our colony in the Skyllian Verge and in retribution; we launch a full scale invasion of the entire Hegemony. Within seven days, the Hegemony was defeated and a new government was established."

"Excuse me, but are you saying your military crushed an entire nation in the course of a single week? How is that even possible?"

Bowman responded, letting his words and casual tone speak for itself, "With advanced technological might, an incredibly well trained military, and a Naval fleet that, to put in layman's terms, is larger than the combined fleets of the entire Council. In any case, let that be a clear example of the capability of the Terran Military. Next question? Yes, the… Volus in the front." He stared at the short Volus, being held up to chest height by a Krogan guard.

"Marval Goss, Citadel News Network," he took a deep breath, "How would you describe your species, the Terrans?"

He kept staring for a moment, then quickly replied, "Actually, 'Terran' is a political term that refers to any person that is a citizen of the Federation. I and the majority of the citizens of the Federation are known as human. There is not much I can really say much about ourselves. We are a race living on a garden world in the area of the galaxy you have called the Attican Traverse. In the forty-two years the Federation has existed, we have expanded to control nearly the entire mass relay network in the Traverse and it was only in the past month that Humanity has made First Contact."

He took another deep breath, "You have control over a quarter of the galaxy and yet you have only made First Contact just a month ago?"

"Yes, which acts as a clear testament to the industrial and economical might of the Federation. Now both the Federation and the Council enter a new era. For us, we now know we are no longer alone in the galaxy. For the Council, they shall begin negotiations with a galactic power that, if I may be humble, equally rivals them. One last question… yes, the Asari at the front."

She lowered her arm, and turned to Bowman. From behind the crowd, Saren tried to identify her, momentarily loss due to the effects of his injuries and rehabilitation. _She isn't a news reporter. She looks rather familiar actually_. She batted her eyes for a moment at the Batarian and Quarian Ambassadors, then looked up at Bowman on the podium.

"Yes, President Bowman. I am… _Rele Casir_ , Hellesian University Post. I would just like to ask about the choice of ambassadorship for the Batarians and Quarians under human control."

Bowman looked at her, curious, "The Batarian and Quarian races were given and accepted membership into the Federation. They are as Terran as I and any other human here. As for Ambassador Dov'tok and Ambassador Ghirn, I was debriefed by my aides and I chose them based on their past experience with the Council."

"But President Bowman," she said, more forceful in her tone, "Are you not aware of these two individuals' past interaction with the Council? Of how Markov Dov'tok's false promises allowed the Batarians to attack the Turians, or of how that sui… how Miri Ghirn is still a wanted criminal in Council Space?"

Bowman realized what she was doing and responded in kind, still keeping a calm mask, "As I stated before, I _personally_ appointed them to their positions based on what I have read of their experience with the Citadel Council, based on records we retrieved from the Council during our raid. As of current, we do not acknowledge any accusations against our citizens from any foreign power. Now I must be off to begin our meeting with the Council. Thank you all for your time."

Bowman walked off stage, escorted by his guards and followed shortly by the four ambassadors with their escorts. The Asari grumbled, her fist glowing momentarily. But she felt someone grab it and she stopped. She turned back, surprised by Saren, shaking his head as he let go of her hand. The Terrans walked around, and so did the Council, meeting over at the side. After a moment, they were face to face, Bowman and Tevos in the middle, Goyle and Nerval closest to the crowd, and Udina and Sparatus farthest. Bowman extended his hand out and Tevos responded to the hand shake, remembering how a few minor races have similar greetings. As the crowd of media watched from the side, photographing and broadcasting the contact, they proceeded through a hidden corridor, leading to an elevator up to the Citadel Tower.

* * *

 **Part 4:**

 **The Terrans and the Council  
Citadel Chamber  
July 1, 2167 11:00:00 UTC**

They stood in the main chamber at the top of the Citadel Tower. In a raised balcony near the large glass window that looked out into the void were the three Citadel Councilors. They stood near their podiums, standing up straight and well postured, as the three most powerful people in the galaxy. On the side balconies were an assortment of diplomats and ambassadors from the numerous minor races in the Council. By request of the Council, none of the associated race or the main race ambassadors appeared. Tevos intended to showcase their own diversity through the numerous smaller races.

On the lower balcony that extended out over a small garden beneath the Councilors was the President of the United Terran Federation. Behind him on the main walkway were the Batarian and Human Ambassadors to the Council's left and the Quarian and Terran Ambassadors to their right. Bowman was in the center and stood in front of them and the Council. He didn't see himself as the most powerful person in the galaxy. But as he reasoned, he had the most powerful nation, and that was just as good. He looked around at the numerous races. The galaxy always had a way of becoming big again when it seemed small.

"Shall we begin the meeting?" asked Tevos to the other Councilors.

"Yes, let's begin the diplomatic process," answered Nerval, secretly excited to see them in the flesh. The possible highlight of his career, and life really, was about to unfold.

"If we must…" murmured Sparatus, only a bit happier that they were dealing with the real humans and not their AI.

They turned and looked down at them, "Then let us begin. My name is Councilor Tevos for the Asari Republics."

"Councilor Sparatus of the Turian Hierarchy."

"Councilor Nerval of the Salarian Union. May we ask that you address yourselves?"

Bowman dusted himself off and arranged his tie. He looked up, ready to address them.

"My name is President Jonathan Bowman of the United Terran Federation. Accompanying me today are the appointed ambassadors of each member race of the Federation to the Citadel Council, and the Head Ambassador of the entire Terran Federation to the Council." He gestured his right arm to the ones to his right, "To my right is the Batarian Ambassador Markov Dov'tok and the Human Ambassador Donnel Udina." He turned to extend his left arm to indicate those to his left, "To my left is the Quarian Ambassador Miri Ghirn and the Terran Ambassador Anita Goyle."

"Ah yes. The term 'Terran'," said Tevos, "President Bowman, could you please explain to us what is a 'Terran'".

"All those who wish to join and live under the banner of the Federation are given the moniker of 'Terran'. No longer does one race lay claim to be the only Terran. We are not united by the blood that soars in our veins but by the soul and ideal we hold in our hearts. Terran is political, ideological, an identity, and a state of mind."

"It can be said the discovery of your version of the Council has been a shock to us all," said Sparatus.

"With all due respect, I do not believe we are like the Citadel Council. Unlike a loose coalition, we are a fully united nation. We have one government, one military, and one economy. We are nothing less than Terran, mind, body and soul." He stated his comment sincerely, but in actuality it was a disguised attack against the Council. Tevos, realizing this, attempted to change the issue before he continued his expression of devotion to his nation.

"Your list of member races is… interesting. Your Federation, they conquered the Batarians…"

"They liberated the Batarians!" said Dov'tok, pointing at the Council, "Our people were oppressed by a tyrannical government that enslaved its own and many others. All true Batarians owe their lives and more importantly, their freedom to the Federation." He made his speech, strong and passionate. Though the Federation had its own flaws, it was far better alternative to the Hegemony.

"But of course…" answered Tevos, shaken a bit by the Batarian's burst, "They 'liberated' you."

Sparatus quickly interjected, "Liberated? Oh, is a seven-day war that involved nuking half of their colonies considered a war of liberation?"

"If I may remind you, we have over a hundred million freed slaves of Council origins that we have rescued. We, as an act of goodwill, have taken our time to fully care for them and are ready to return them to you when we deem it appropriate."

"Yes, you say this, but if our numbers are correct, many more were enslaved by the Batarians," said Sparatus. He turned to look down at Dov'tok, "And how can we be so sure of what this man says?" He turned to his fellow Councilors and held his arms out, pointing at the Batarian, "He comes here preaching 'peace', when his last message of the same allowed the Hegemony to launch a full surprise invasion of the Hierarchy!"

"His words are mine!" yelled Bowman. Tevos was worried. They were still in the ceremony stage and already there was yelling, "We are here, not simply to preach peace, but to practice it! And I can question your own words as well as you can question mine. I'm surprised the Council knew that many of their own kind were in bondage and yet did almost nothing to help them. What I say is true and many of the liberated have now joined the Federation, applying for full citizenship. It may seem they are more grateful to a group that actually took action than to their own races that did nothing. As I recall, a Turian who immigrated to us said, 'Their cause was one that was truly worth dying for'."

Sparatus grew upset, the human was mocking not only the Council's inability to save their own, but had insulted his race's own values as something of no meaning. Sparatus snarled and grumbled as Tevos quickly tried to change the topic again. She looked through the room, before focusing her eyes on a target.

"If I may ask, Ambassador Ghirn. Is it possible we have met before?"

Sparatus quickly switched on to Tevos' line of thought. He stared at her, squinting his eyes as Miri looked back, puzzled. "Yes… I remember her. From my files… she's a high profile criminal! She and her damned accomplices Vali and Reeger wreaked havoc across Citadel Space, stole one of my race's cruisers, and incited an uprising! There's a bigger bounty for them than there is for T'Loak."

"How can you be so sure that's really her?" asked Nerval impatiently, "If I read those same files correctly, this was over sixty years ago. Neither of us was even born yet."

"Dear God, son, and holy Terra, are we here to make peace or be accused?" asked Bowman, yelling up at them, "I have no intention on entertaining your wild…"

Bowman stopped when he noticed Miri walking onto the extending balcony. She stood beside him, the chamber focused on her, "I am that Miri'Ghirn. Who over sixty years ago, was on Pilgrimage with my friend Zaren'Vali and Faunz'Reeger in service to the Migrant Fleet. What actions transpired during our journey through Council Space were those of self-defense against clear racial profiling by the Council."

"Racial profiling?" Sparatus let out a laugh at the notion, "We all know what you Quarains are. A bunch of thieves and beggars, leaching off people from each system your fleet passes by. You and your damned accomplices Zaren and Faunz. Next you'll tell me Zaren didn't go on to destroy a remote Turian colony in the Terminus and declare war against us! Bunch of rats in suits."

From within her mask her expression darkened as her rage grew, tears falling from her eyes, "Zaren and Faunz are dead you damn bosh'tet! Don't you dare speak of them like that!"

"Good riddance…"

"Sparatus!" yelled Bowman, pointing menacingly up at the Turian to Sparatus' shock and disgust, "I, nor the entire Federation will tolerate such insults against a member race or a citizen from an opposing power. Let me remind you that if you think you are speaking from a position of power, then you are very wrong to presume so. By all accounts, we are still at war! We are at the advantage! If this meeting is going to be nothing but an attempt to insult us, we will be more than willing to return the favor. With the full might of the Federation's Military!"

"How dare you… We are the leaders of the galaxy! You come here, to our homes, harboring war mongers and criminals! And what of you? The humans. You think you can make up names to call yourselves and hide behind others for your own transactions? You think you can go wherever you please, destroy our ships, steal from our people and their possessions, and destroy what we built, our infrastructure, our foundation!?" Sparatus was fuming at that point; Tevos was on the verge of giving up and just slam her head on her podium. Nerval simply stood there and watched as the whole thing played out. He was almost amused, pretty sure the Terrans were expecting, if not trying to provoke Sparatus for their own observation. "You are insane to wage war now. You're on our station!"

"Yes. And I have a ship in orbit of that station. She bears the name of a human of peace, as we try to become today. But do not think we shall pursue peace blindly. Do not think we wouldn't be willing to turn away from his vision. She is a warship, our newest and finest. The _Sagan's Voyage_ awaits my word. With a full complement of antimatter torpedoes and nuclear strength ordinances, she bears enough armament to kill all fifteen million people on this station. I doubt the Prothean's greatest wonder can survive Terran antimatter firepower!" Bowman stood there, staring down the Council and bluffing his way ahead. If war started now, the _Sagan's Voyage_ was a sitting duck, and they would be good as dead. He was a bit more worried of the retaliation the Terran nation would deliver however. An uncontrollable Terran scourge awaiting to match the Council's wrath.

"You would kill yourselves?"

Bowman held his arms out and chuckled, "I'm replaceable! I was a soldier, I fought for my nation." He then saluted Sparatus with a smug look on his face, the near identical salute of the Turians just to jab at him. Bowman knew Sparatus was anything but. "Yet I wonder if you are? I stand here ready to die for Terra! But are you ready to lay down your life for the Turian Cause?"

"I am no coward!"

"Enough!" Tevos finally raised her voice. In that moment, it was clear she was livid, everyone turning to her. Sparatus and the dozens of guest diplomats were suddenly worried, while the Terrans looked on in surprise. Bowman himself looked on, actually impressed, _Dorsi didn't mention this_. She was giving out the glow of natural biotic, bright blue as a commando in combat. In such an induced state of rage, she had created a full mass effect field around her, causing her to levitate above where she had stood. Across the chamber, her glow graced her presence on it.

"Tevos!" shouted Nerval, quietly enough to not be heard himself, but loud enough for Tevos to hear through her rage. Quickly, as she readied to lash out, she calmed herself down and returned to her natural state. She landed on the floor and quickly recovered her calm posture. Though far younger, she knew she could always put trust in her Salarian colleague, who was still quite wise despite his short years of life.

The chamber calmed down, but she had struck the needed impression to everyone, Council and Terran alike. She turned to Bowman and spoke more calmly, "The Council wishes no ill will against your nation or any race in it. But we do not stand by when others threaten us."

Bowman crossed his arms, "My position requires me to be a maker of peace, or a bringer of war. I would prefer the former."

She sighed, realizing her attempts to steady Sparatus had only worsened things. Letting it go on unguided was not the right choice. She leaned over to Sparatus, whispering to him, "Damn it Sparatus, do not provoke them. We cannot afford war."

He looked at her, bewildered, though he knew he had to be more cautious, for his own stake, "Do you really believe what they say?"

"They're damn willing to go to war for it. Now quiet down or things are going to get really loud, really fast!" She went back to facing the main Federation convoy, "My… sincerest apologies. My comment had nothing to do with the Council's past interaction with Ambassador Ghirn and Vali…"

Miri shouted, finger pointed at the Councilor, "Fleet Admiral Vali!"

Tevos corrected herself, "Fleet Admiral Vali… My comment… was to indicate my personal recognition of Ambassador Ghirn herself. Your suit..." She was sure she saw it before. A diplomat of hundreds of years' experience tended to remember a lot, but Tevos more so, especially now. "It is as if I saw it before some time ago, in person... Have we met before?"

"No," replied Miri. She stepped back and slowly returned to a more relaxed position, "But this suit? It is an old suit handed down in my family that I chose to wear for this occasion. All the way from an ancestor of mine, Remia'Tavan."

"Remia'Tavan? I might know that name."

She crossed her arms, a bit content at hearing that, "That's good. She was the last Quarian Ambassador to our race before you kicked her and our race out from the Citadel Council!"

Tevos took a small step back, her eyes wide open, realizing she just set herself into a bad position. She was Councilor when the Council voted to kick the Quarians out, and now it was coming right back at her. She didn't even want to think of the poetic justice it may seem to them that the descendant of the last Quarian Ambassador was now back as one to a far more powerful nation. Now she knew for sure why Miri was chosen by Bowman to be here today. Seeing Bowman smile from hearing the revelation, Tevos was sure she was right.

"I see… That was, unfortunate."

"I can only presume so, Councilor Tevos," said Miri as she returned to her spot.

Bowman intervened, calmer and more polite than he had been moments ago. "May we begin discussing our original agenda?"

Goyle leaned over to Miri and chuckled, "This is going well, isn't it?"

* * *

 _ **Citadel News Network**_ _: Evening News;_ _20_ _th_ _Day of the Fifth Standard Month, 2907 GS; (Terran Date: July 1, 2167 UTC)_

 _ **United Terran Federation Meets with Citadel Council. Mystery Remains.**_

 _After the past month, many waited in wonder, and in fear, for the aliens from beyond the Attican Traverse. In a released statement only a day earlier, the Council indicated that they had established back door communications with the aliens known as the 'Terrans', of the United Terran Federation. A day later, the entirety of Citadel forces, from C-Sec tripling patrols across the Wards, to a diversion of an extra thousand ships from the Salarains and Asari, stood ready when a Terran ship appeared from the mass relay._

 _For the most part, no one had any real idea of who or what the Terrans are. Last month, the Terrans forced a broadcast across the galaxy, showing their race accept the Quarians and Batarians into their Federation. While giving a glimpse of who they are, much was without context and in the end, no one knew for sure who the Terrans were. But, if not by their intention, they have nevertheless left a clear mark on the citizens of Council Space. They have fought and won a war with the Batarian Hegemony, they annexed the tens of thousands of Quarians ships to their own, and their own ships demonstrated their supremacy over even the might of the Asari._

 _Since then, many events have gone on across Council space, leaving the speculation of Terran intervention. The most prominent was on the Citadel, when ten, high profile civilian ships were stolen by Quarian Pilgrims. This being timed with a massive false intelligence report of a Terran 'attack' on Palaven, and the crash of the galactic extranet. As of this afternoon, only 45% extranet service has been restored, with massive amounts of data missing. As of yet, the Council has given no word on whether the Terrans are to blame for it._

 _When the Terrans did arrive, they did so in a massive spectacle. In what is speculated to be their form of formal introduction, the Terran diplomatic convoy introduced themselves with a formal ceremony. In front of the docking terminal, they used holographic technology to create a large stage, where they introduced their diplomats and leader with a flag waving ceremony and a choir singing the praises of their leader, one President Jonathan Bowman. In a surprise to reporters on scene, he expressed eagerness to answer questions from our media. However, his answers only confirmed some general speculations of his race, while staying vague on other detailed issues._

 _The Council is expected to give out a statement on the first day of talks between them later this evening._

* * *

 _ **NBC Morning News: Terra**_ _;_ _Date Stamp: July 1, 2167 11:00 UTC_

 _ **President Bowman Leads Diplomatic Mission to Alien Citadel Council.**_

 _Late yesterday, in United Terran Coordinate time, President Jonathan Bowman and his team of diplomats departed Arcturus shipyard. Their destination, the ancient Prothean space station known across the alien galaxy as 'The Citadel'. Accompanying him was appointed Terran Ambassador Anita Goyle, Human Ambassador Donnel Udina, Quarian Ambassador Miri Ghirn, and Batarian Ambassador Markov Dov'tok._

 _Since First Contact, what is known of the Citadel Council is that they are an intricate coalition of numerous alien races across the galaxy. The main Council however consists of the three main races, who's individual economic, political, and militarily power surpasses the combined might of the rest of the lower members in the Council. In a manner similar to the old Security Council in the United Nations, the three-membered council controls the action and affairs of the whole Citadel Council._

 _It is currently believed that a de facto state of war existed between the Council and the Federation. Given the war with the Hegemony, the annexation of the Migrant Fleet, and the now famed Hackett's Raid of the Citadel station, many analyzers believed such actions may not play favorably in the peace talks. However, many have also assured that given the clear military advantage of the Federation over the combined Council forces, both sides would have leverage over the other to pursue peace._

 _As part of a gesture of this, President Bowman departed to the Citadel on board the first Exodus Class Flagship, the Sagan's Voyage, named in honor to famous 20_ _th_ _century scientist Carl Sagan. This has come under criticism since the ship was still incomplete and entered Council space with no escort. It is believed though that since reports are now coming in of the redeployment of the First, Third, and Fifth Fleet near the border, Bowman may have been using himself and the ship as a test of the Council's intent for peace, using his intentional vulnerability to see whether they might attack him. So far, peace seems to be holding, as reports indicate he arrived safely onto the station._

* * *

 _ **Illium News: Nos Astra;**_ _18_ _th_ _Day of the Fifth Standard Month, 2907 GS; (Terran Date: June 29, 2167 UTC)_

 _ **Pirate Activity Spike Across Terminus Border. Caution Advised.**_

 _*This news report is brought to you by_ _ **Tupari**_ _. If you don't want to be killed or enslaved, drink Tupari!_

 _In the news tonight, pirate and raider activity has continued to increase across the border of the Terminus Systems. In a recently released report by the Illium Commerce Committee, there has been a 30% spike in attacks on trade convoys coming in and from the major relays heading to the Terminus Systems in the past trading week. Together, this has equated to a nearly 200% increase in activity this month in comparison to last month and a 1300% increase to the same period of time last year._

 _This increase has been seen occurring in the past few months, but in noticeable numbers since late last month. As requested by a recently formed committee of the head corporate leaders of the major corporations on Illium, Council forces were deployed to the area to protect Illium and the nearby colonies. This was initially headed by Turian Admiral Tiberius Fedorian. But during a misinterpretation of the strength of a raid across the border by raiders, Fedorian called in ships directly from the Citadel. This was believed to be used by the aliens known as the Terrans, who were thought to have been monitoring Council news information, in coordination to launch the raid of the Citadel that left the Council defenseless._

 _Since then, following the destruction of the Destiny Ascension and the supposed capture of Fedorian by Terran forces, pirate activity has increased dramatically, becoming bolder with each attack. With many colonies on the border being attacked and even heavily enforced corporate worlds now susceptible to attack, stock on the Nos Astra market has been on a steady decline. However, the same committee of corporations has announced the commission of a unified private fleet to bolster security in the Tasale system. Many analyzers believe this will help turn the stock market around and keep the area potential profitable for investors._

 _The news of the Council planning to meet with the Terrans to end all hostilities has also bolstered the galactic market, proving the old Volus Law of Procurement #35, 'Peace is good for business.'_

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

 _In Diplomacy,_  
 _One must be calm, rational,_  
 _and above all else, soft spoken, yet stern._

 _Though yelling,_  
 _and threatening a preemptive strike_  
 _works too..._

Thanks for reading,  
Keep on following,  
There's more coming up!

And always feel free to review.  
If you got feedback, comments, or concerns,  
let me know.

If you have any questions that the story didn't answer,  
Go ahead and review or PM me.  
I'd be glad to answer them.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\


	21. 20: Fianchetto - Part 1

**Chapter Twenty: Fianchetto Part One: Basic Economics**

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Hello Everyone!  
As of today, when this is posted,  
it is the six month anniversary of the start  
of my story, The Terran Gambit!

I have to thank you all!  
Your support and interest in my story  
has been such a driving force.  
I am deeply thankful and honored  
That so many have followed and liked my story.

In a way, it is a bit of yours as well.  
Your feedback and reviews,  
to everyone I talked to,  
Had helped me improve and morphed this story  
into something better than I could have imagined.  
To all the readers and fellow authors out there,  
Thank You!

And once more, my special thanks to my beta, **_MoonSword1994_**.  
I couldn't have done it without you!  
Thank you for every chapter!

* * *

So lets begin, shall we?

 _A military is always needed,  
A political force is key_,  
 _but nations are not just that._

 _There are so many factors,  
Like the Wealth of a Nation.  
To be strong, you must have the economy,  
the lifeblood to support your strength!_

 _One man knows this.  
The key to the Terran's rise long ago,  
is now the key once more onto the galactic stage._

 _Everyone else,  
from soldiers,  
to President Bowman,  
has mentioned him.  
_

 _So here he is.  
One of the most important Terrans in the Gambit Universe.  
Ready to do his mark for man's Great Gambit!_

So it's a two-parter,  
In celebration of the six months!  
So please enjoy.

And once more.  
Thanks for reading,  
Keep on following,  
There's more coming up!

And always feel free to review.  
If you got feedback, comments, or concerns,  
let me know.

If you have any questions that the story didn't answer,  
Go ahead and review or PM me.  
I'd be glad to answer them.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

* * *

 **Part 1:**

 **CEO Jeremy Bishop - CV _Pierpont_  
First Day of Diplomatic Talks  
** **July 1, 2167 10:10:00 UTC**

… _What was that old phrase they used to say… 'Per Aspera Ad Astra', that's it! That translates to 'Through hardship to the stars' in case none of you knew. We, Humanity, have gone through so much, and once more, we have bled, we have endured, we have struggled! We struggled… through hardship, through our inexcusable failures, to come back from the brink, and march forward once more to the stars. Our home world bleeds, Humanity bleeds, but we must not step back… Too many have died for us to step back._

 _I looked back, once more onto this world, onto the site where we built our future. They now call it a Utopia. What was once a symbol of our strength is now one of our fragility. This was once our crucible. Now it is a reminder of our foolishness, how we flew too high, and we fell like the 'fallen angels' for it… for the dream, that great Terran dream. Don't be fooled. It still remains alive. And now, more than ever, it is one we must fight for. But our innocence, gone. Our goals, no longer noble._

 _Once more, onto the stars, we head out. The greatness of Terra awaits us. But we do so now for we have no real choice. The Earth below us feels almost gone. No longer do we have a past to stand our greatness on, we must build a new. And so, as the first ship of the new Fourth Fleet heads out, as all of Humanity heads out once more, let us remember those who endured hardship and struggled so we may all go to the stars beyond. Let us not forget the memories of those who fell. It is now, not then, that we are where the fallen angel meets the rising ape._

 _Onward and forward, shall the Terran people march on once more! Eternal is our resiliency! It is what those who fell from our Great Revival would have wanted!... It… It… Well, honestly, it's all we can do for them…_

 _Am I done here? Get me the hell away from this God forsaken place…_

\- Jeremy Bishop, CEO of Quantum Core Industry, at the christening of the first commissioned ship for the Terran Fourth Fleet, the Aircraft Carrier _Jade_ _Lin_ _Bishop_ , ACCC-2135, at the Martian Utopia Fleet Yard, Resiliency Day 2150.

* * *

"And that was the speech given by Jeremy Bishop at the first ceremony of Terran Resiliency Day. With the terrorist attack by the group Terra Prime still fresh in everyone's mind, we at the BBC still remember of the events of the Amenthes Terrorist Attack and wish to honor the memories of all those who fell…"

As the news station continued pandering to the people with the events of recent and of decades ago, the man who spoke those words was in the bathroom of his suite onboard his private ship, the _Pierpont_. The ship itself was in the corvette bay of the _Sagan's Voyage_ , awaiting clearance to depart and dock at the Citadel as well. Everything was arranged, all they waited for now was to make sure the area was safe, and the man was using the President himself to make sure of it.

As for Bishop himself, he stumbled into the bathroom and stood over his Noverian porcelain sink, shirtless and in soiled dress pants. Leading to the door into his luxury bathroom were several empty bottles of Eden's Best Federal IPA, Jim Harper's Illusive Bourbon, and a bottle of Alliance 2067 wine. He grabbed onto the edge of the counter and leaned over, staring at the mirror. His black hair was a jumbled mess, his eyes were bloodshot and watery, his brown face drooping with a thick shadow. His left hand slipped and he collapsed a bit onto the counter, delirious. He continued staring in the mirror at his current self, moaning. He was out of shape, with a beer gut, far from his peak decades ago.

"You… drunk…" he belched, "Fuck!"

Finally, he got ahold of his mind and remembered what he was supposed to be doing. Bishop blinked furiously to get his sight working and he looked to a small device on the counter. It was a detoxification unit he had swiped from one of the labs of the Sirta Foundation, a private company owned by his family. He looked at it with suspicion, it was a prototype reversed engineered from the standard model found in Quarian suits. Though he doubted it would work, he didn't have the time or the care to worry about using the untested product.

He grunted and slapped it on his upper left arm, the suction cups on it attaching into place. Several needles then injected in, the sudden pain taking him by surprise as he slipped and fell onto the marble floor, half of his body hitting the bath rug. As the machine began its detoxification program, he struggled on the ground, rolling wildly back and forth. He clenched in pain, grinding his teeth. His eyes went wide open as he struggled to even moan in pain. He clenched his chest, panicking as he felt an incredible pain course throughout his body, the machine cleaning his blood in a brute fashion.

Finally, he opened his mouth and took one last gasp and collapsed there on the ground, motionless. The machine stopped, flashing a green light that it was finished. It fell off his arm and onto the ground. Bishop laid there still, his eyes opened.

"Your blood alcohol level has been reduced from 0.52% to 0.00%. You are now cleansed. Keelah se'lai!" said the machine, most of its programming still Quarian based.

A sound rang out from the desk inside his suite. He quickly rose up from near death, taking a huge breath. Hyperventilating, he quickly stood up and looked at the sink, then at himself at the mirror once more.

"Ah crap, not again," he said, more clearly and coherent. He was now sweating, now panicking at his ill prepared presentation. He picked up the detoxification unit, taking note of the small vile of toxins on the side. "Nifty little thing." He looked down at the mess on the floor and on him, "Damn it! Emily!"

At the display touchscreen next to the door, Bishop's personal digital assistant program responded. Unlike the Council, the Terran's equivalent for Virtual Intelligence programs lagged significantly behind. The quest for full Artificial Intelligence was done so quickly and with brute force that much of the development in VIs, which would open the way for AIs by Council logic, were overlooked by the Terrans for their digital assistant programs. While heavy commercialization made them just as reliable and had the added safety of no risk of accidental AI development, which the Council version lacked, they were far less capable than Council VI. Combined with AI civil rights, it was one of the main reasons why Humanity had failed to achieve a technological singularity.

"Yes, Mr. Bishop?" responded the program with a feminine Asian voice.

"Activate the Roombas and clean this mess up, turn on my shower to 42 degrees and…" The continued ringing from his desk finally registered in his mind. He yelled, "And answer the damn phone!"

* * *

"It would be a great investment!

Bishop stood in front of his sink once more, cleaned and mostly dressed in his business causal, minus the coat and tie. As he finished shaving, Jonah Ashland was on the line, trying to persuade his friend on a new business venture. With a light brown beard and a balding head, he was on the display screen, integrated within the mirror of Bishop's bathroom.

"I don't know, Jonah. Who's this Aussie again?" he asked. With one last swipe of his blade, he finished, leaving him with a clean, smooth face.

Ashland responded, all while hearing Bishop wash his blade in his sink, "Well Jerry, Mr. Lawson is the leading geneticist in the Federation. His last ten years of research alone equates to that done by Humanity since the Atomic Revolution."

"Hmmm," he placed his blade away and reaching for his tie on a nearby sink rack, "Human genome manipulation has been a dead end since the Revival."

"Ah, yes. But alien genes can be profitable. Image what we could offer to our non-human customers? The Quarians, Batarians, even the Asari lag in some aspects. Imagine if we can enhance Quarian immunity or cure that, uh…" Ashland looked at his tablet, reading out the translation, "'Night Winds' syndrome the Asari have."

Bishop gave it another thought as he adjusted his cuffs and started on the tie, "What's their expected IPO?" He looked at the screen integrated to the mirror as Ashland checked.

"Lawson Legacy Genetics will be going on the Noverian Exchange at $45 in a few days. Market projection value at ten billion."

"A bit pricey..." He finished tying a Windsor knot and snapped his fingers, "I know, I'll have Sirta announce a breakthrough in the speedup adaptation of gene splicing. I'll say we found a sea slug full of stem cells or something. That'll lower the price. Then we move in and buy just enough to get a good control of the company without the FTC AIs realizing we're playing stock manipulation."

Ashland slapped his forehead and chuckled, "You've done it again."

Bishop smirked at him, "Of course I have. Who was the one who won the bid to fund the colonization of Terra Nova?"

Ashland sighed. His friend was gloating again, "You…"

"Who formed the largest corporation in the galaxy without getting trust busted?"

"You…"

He snickered some more and continued, "Who bailed you out of that time you thought you got Sabine pregnant at that frat party?"

He face palmed, now embarrassed, "Dear God, please don't bring that up…"

Bishop laughed as he combed his hair, "Exactly! You pine trees always get in trouble."

Ashland slammed his fist, "We are the Cardinals!"

Bishop brushed off Ashland's alma mater, "When you get that damn tree off your logo, then you'll have found a Spartan that cares." He sighed, "I can't believe my son went there… Oh, and who was the one that single handedly orchestrated the merger between your dad's and old man Eldfell's company to form the largest fuel supplier in the Federation?"

Ashland quickly picked up on that, "You. And speaking of that and your son, he decided to imitate his dad and do the same!"

He sighed, checking for a blemish on his face, "I heard…"

"Shell, Exxon, Chevron, all now United SEC." Ashland snarled as he rolled his eyes, "My biggest competitors united, and they underbid me as Roma system's fuel extractor! How can I compete?"

"United SEC is a purely energy extracting company. You and EAE have complete control of distribution. The Newton system is still up for grabs, and Roma and all the Quarians in it will need a distribution network. The Navy will be using the entire sector as a launch point into the Delta. Cut the bid for that by five billion and you'll be supplying them with SEC's own helium as they charge through hordes of robots on Rannoch."

Ashland rested his head in his palm, nodding in agreement, "I can spin that into a marketing campaign." He held his hand out, "Eldfell-Ashland Energy, _Fueling the way to the Home World!_ "

"Ha, play _Adagio for Strings_ as well. They'll love it!" Bishop left the bathroom and walked towards his desk to grab his watch. Locking the strap, he turned it on. Immediately, the biometric sensor went off as the watch patched itself into the room's surround sound speakers.

" _Warning: Imminent liver fail. Warning: Imminent kidney failure. Warning: Imminent heart failure. Please seek immediate medical assistance."_

Bishop groaned, "Emily, disable alarm. Send an order request to Costco for a pack of livers, a six-pack of kidneys, and a heart. And tell them it better be ready this time! Two-hour organ printing my ass!"

"Yes, Mr. Bishop."

"Still hitting the bottle, I see?" Ashland commented.

"Yah…"

Bishop sighed and sat on his desk. He grabbed a photo on his desk and looked at it. He slid his hand down the glass, staring at the image of a young man in a sharp politician suit, a slightly shorter, lighter complexion young woman in a formal green Army dress and a blue beret, and a small child dressed formally, staring confusingly at the camera. Behind them was the flag of Terra Firma party.

He tossed it aside and onto his desk. As it laid flat up, the frame's built in holo emitter turned on automatically. It played a holo vid, of the same man walking into the frame and putting down a briefcase. He appeared confused, looking around. He then dropped onto one knee and held his arms out as the same child ran up and hugged him. The man picked him up and spun him around before the child climbed onto his back. Playing along, the man held his arms out like wings and ran around as the child pretended to pilot him. The woman finally appeared, slowly walking in with her arms crossed as she giggled at the spectacle.

The man noticed and walked over to her. The child reached for her and she picked him off the man, giving him an Eskimo kiss as they rubbed noses, the child giggling. She placed him down and turned to the man himself; they embraced and had a more passionate kiss, before they opened their eyes and looked into each other's. The child stared up, confused, and the two chuckled as they both grabbed on to his shoulders. They finally all turned to the same direction and got into position, the child unsure of what was going on as the image was taken and the video finally ended.

Bishop stood there, staring at the picture. His eyes were tearing up and his breathing became heavy as he slowly shook his head in disappointment. Deep in him, he felt a clenching pain, his chest contracting and his breath becoming shorter. He reached over and pushed the frame off his desk, then rushed to get his coat.

"Jeremy?" asked Ashland, wondering about the silence.

"I… I… I have to go. End call."

"Wait, Je…"

He got his coat on and walked to the door. He stood there, staring at the steel doors. But then he walked over to a nearby picture frame hanging above his suite's fireplace mantle.

It was a large case with a navy blue background. On the left was a portrait of the same women from before, in her formal uniform and blue beret. On the right was the Star of Terra medal award, the highest award for military personnel. It was a golden six-point star, representing Sol, with a small emblem of the United Earth in the center. It rested on a large circular surface with olive branches connecting to each star tip along the circumference of the large circle. Connecting to it from the top star tip was the blue neck ribbon with three olive green stripes to indicate it was the Army version.

Below in the center, engraved in a silver bar, was the nametag.

 _Congressional Star of Terra Recipient:_

 _Colonel Jade Lin Bishop_

 _2111-2149_

 _Commander, 9_ _th_ _Battalion, First Division_

" _For her selfless sacrifice to bring peace to Earth"_

 _Awarded:_

 _1_ _st_ _Terran Resiliency Day_

 _September 11, 2150_

He sighed, "You should be the one here. You always wanted to explore the galaxy."

Bishop reached over to a nearby ice bucket and grabbed his last bottle of Alliance 2067. He grabbed the neck and pinched the cork. Just as he was about to pull the cork, his comm went off again.

"Mr. Bishop, are you ready?" asked Patterson.

He stopped and sighed as he held the bottle up. Beyond the bottle, he saw the dock doors open up. He stumbled a bit as the docking clamps released their magnetic grip and left the docks of the _Sagan's Voyage_. He lowered the bottle and walked to the viewport behind his desk as the Citadel glimmered in the light of the nebula. He looked back at the bottle.

"Right, this is for the host… Yah, I'm on my way."

He patted himself, checking if he had everything.

"Damn it. Emily, where the hell are my 'Silver Bishops'?"

* * *

 **Part 2:**

 **Kerry Wells and Margaret Patterson - CV _Pierpont_  
July 1, 2167 10:55:00 UTC**

"Oh, this is going to be exciting," said Wells, sweating a bit as he clapped his collar to get air in. He and his colleague Patterson stood in the atrium of the _Pierpont_ , waiting for the ship to dock.

"Oh God, yes! We're actually going to visit a freaking alien station!" said Patterson. She was giggling as she grinned, holding her arms together, "We're going to see all those exotic aliens like we did in Washington, and more!"

He sighed and rolled his eyes, "We seem so… bland compared to the variety in the galaxy. Hey, didn't you meet that one Quarian admiral?"

She pondered about it, "Koris? Didn't get a good look with that mask in the way."

"But his fellow admiral, her suit really drew out her rack, eh?" he said, pretending to cup invisible breasts on his chest.

"Oh grow up… Quarians aren't my taste." She tightened her arms in seeming denial, "What about you, find anyone of interest?"

He chuckled, "There was that Turian that sat near us back in Washington. His head spikes," he moaned at the thought, "how I yearn to caress them."

"Why was he wearing a Naval uniform though? And an admiral's pip as well?"

He rolled his eyes, "It's Navy. They give promotions away like candy. Hell, they'll let anyone in."

"They let me in." Bishop walked in from around the corner, fully dressed in a grey business suit. In one hand, he had the bottle of wine with a nice bow tie, and in the other was a small OCD he immediately proceeded to put in the inside pocket of his coat. They turned to him and he handed the bottle to Patterson. "Three years as a lieutenant in the budget department then discharged in the only instance of the Navy doing personnel cutbacks. For a year, I actually outranked my wife."

They turned to the airlock, the green light flashed solid as sound came from the docking clamps as they locked onto the ship. A small detachment of Secret Service agents took point at the door, waiting for others on the dock to give clearance.

Paterson turned to Bishop, "You think it's safe? We did destroy some of their ships, and rammed their largest one. Bound to piss them off."

"Oh relax," he said, chuckling, "Ships get randomly destroyed all the time. I mean, it's a miracle the _Sagan's Voyage_ didn't randomly explode on the way here." He turned to one of the agents he happened to know from the Vetrol Administration. "Baxter, Bowman's still alive, right?"

The agent held his hand to his earpiece, "Uh well, sir. We are still awaiting an update from _Archer_ and his security detail."

He smirked, "Him being dead would be very inconvenient." He then spoke under his breath, "And Williams would be bitching to me about it to no end."

After a moment of the agent nodding in acknowledgement to what he was hearing, he turned to Bishop.

"Mr. Bishop. The President and his convoy are fine."

"Well that's good enough for me," He turned to his assistants, "But just in case. Patterson, Wells, status?"

"An HK M-5 Phalanx, collapsed into place," reported Wells, tapping just under the left armpit of his coat, where his holster was discreetly located.

"Two Colt-Kalashnikov 6.5mm Autos." She lifted her right leg, where one was hidden underneath her pant leg, and pointed to her left sided holster under her coat.

Wells looked at her, surprised by her load out, "You use Colt-Kalashnikov?"

Patterson laughed, "You can't beat a classic KC."

"She has you there, Wells. Fortunately for you, the military disagrees. Anyway, just remember," he pulled out his own weapon, a Colt-Kalashnikov M-2111, and pulled the slide back. Immediately, a 11mm round popped out and landed on the floor, everyone turning their attention to it as the round hit the ground and rolled on the thin carpeted floor. "Oops, guess it was loaded. Anyway, activate your metal dampener fields. And two rules! One: Don't fuck them up. That's the military's job. We are guests, not an infiltration force. And two, following your earlier line of conversation: Don't _fuck_ them up. That's the diplomats' job. We don't want to create an intergalactic incident because you decided to create some damn human hybrid… yet."

The same agent walked up to Bishop and whispered to his ear.

"Uh, Bishop. President Bowman wanted us to… heavily insist that you do not carry weaponry onto the Citadel."

"Are you going to escort me, Baxter?" he asked, knowing his answer as he gave the agent a straight look.

"Unfortunately, no. We are only allowed on the docks, as agreed by the diplomats."

He looked at him, annoyed, "Then no! The last time I walked into an important meeting unarmed, terrorists launched an attack on the Firmist HQ and tried to kill me, some rookie National Guard soldier shoved me out of a fourth story window to save my ass and we landed on top of my brand new 34' Edison. Then I had to fight my way across London with a broken back, carrying that same wounded soldier in one arm, and a KC-10 heavy assault rifle in the other!"

"Well sir, that was how you met your wife."

"I know Baxter…" Bishop then smiled, reminiscing as he looked up, "It was a magical night… But I'm not here to find true love; I'm here to tour an ancient Prothean site repurposed into the capital of galactic civilization… and some other stuff. Now open the doors. If paramilitary forces, eighteen years of alcoholism, and being in the damn Navy can't kill me, then some alien air won't either."

"Yes Mr. Bishop." He signaled to the others as he activated the comm system on his watch, " _Fianchetto_ is on the move!"

* * *

 **Part 3:**

 **Matriarch Benezia and Spectre Kryik  
Wards Dock  
** **July 1, 2167 11:00:00 UTC**

At the docks, Benezia sat in the waiting area near Dock D24. Above her on the walkway, Terran Secret Service agents stood guard near the doors leading to the _Pierpont_ , barely eighty meters in length. Outside the spacious viewport was the ship of the special Terrans. At each corner of the dock, C-Sec officers stood at their post, an eye on the Terrans only a few meters away from them. Nihlus was standing near her as he waited.

"It seems rude to keep us waiting," commented Nihlus.

"Both sides are taking precautions," replied Benezia as she sat up in her seat, "Let them get themselves ready…"

She looked up to the platform as the Terran agent signaled a nearby C-Sec officer. As the Terrans turned to the door, the officer alerted Nihlus. He turned to where Benezia was sitting, only to notice she was gone and already walking up the short steps to the platform. He quickly rushed over to her side. They turned and walked towards the doors, the agents confirming their orders. They stopped and waited as one of the agents nodded to the other and turned to the control panel to open them.

" _Fianchetto_ is on the move. Repeat _Fianchetto_ is on the move."

The Matriarch and Spectre watched as the doors opened and three Terrans walked out into the light from the viewport. The one to their right was Wells, a tall male with a pale complexion and brunette hair, dressed in a light grey suit with a sweater vest under his coat. The one to their left was Patterson, a Terran female just a tad bit shorter than Bishop with a suit similar to Ambassador Goyle, a maroon color instead. The one in the middle, leading them out was Bishop, in a dark grey suit, coat open. His hair was neat and greying, he had a darker tan complexion then the others who were white and pink. Benezia figured for plenty of obvious, and some subtler reasons that he was the leader of the pack.

The Terrans quickly walked up to them, Bishop extending his right hand towards her. Noting the human's form of greeting, she did the same, staying in place. He quickly rushed in to shake her hand, getting a firm grip as he locked eyes with her to get a sense of the feminine alien. She was quick to recognize what he was doing and did the same, her seemingly feminine humanoid hand matching Bishop's grip and giving an even tighter one.

"Greetings, on behalf of Humanity and the Terran people," said Bishop as they let go, still feeling the squeeze on his hand, "we come in peace."

"And a peaceful greeting to you too," she replied, putting her hands back together as she looked at each of them, "I am Matriarch Benezia of the Asari race. On behalf of my people and the entire Citadel Council, we welcome you to the Citadel."

He placed his hands back at his sides and nodded to her, standing straight in formality as he had when he had once met and talked to the high-ranking politicians and leaders, decades earlier.

"The pleasure is all ours. And my personal thanks for agreeing to meet us like this. My name is Jeremy Bishop, the CEO of Quantum Core Industry the largest mass producer in the Federation. These are my assistants, Margret Patterson and Kerry Wells." Wells quickly did a fake cough, elbowing Bishop, "Oh, and they are also the CEOs to two key subsidiaries of my company. Patterson runs Synthetic Insight, the company responsible for our Artificial Intelligence technology. Wells here runs Hahne-Kedar, one of the major arms manufactory for the Terran military." He reached over, Patterson handing him the bottle of fine wine. He gave a short bow as he presented it to Benezia, "A gift from me and my colleagues. A bottle of Bering Alliance wine, Terran year 2067: a century ago, a century aged. Bottled in commemoration of the formation of the Russo-American Star Alliance on my home world, which opened the way for world unity. A symbol of peace then, a symbol of peace now."

She reached out and he handed over the bottle, "A truly wonderful and meaningful gift. Thank you for your generosity. Agent Kryik, can you please hold on this?"

Nihlus sighed as he grabbed hold of the bottle. He gave it a glance, still lacking a visual translator. He was well aware of its chirality despite this, "It's unfortunate it isn't dextro…" He signaled an officer to come over and take the bottle from him.

Bishop turned to Nihlus, "And your Turian friend here?"

"Oh, but of course. This is Nihlus Kryik. He is a Council Special Tactics and Reconnaissance agent, or Spectre. He has been assigned as our guard for our tour today. He and his fellow agents are the best the Council as a whole has to offer in the name of galactic security."

Bishop turned to him, "How kind of the Council to send their best." He examined the agent, discreetly eyeing him, "Tell me, Agent Kryik. You must be well experienced?"

Standing at ease, Nihlus responded, "Of course. It's safe to say I have seen combat and conducted operations across the known galaxy. We are the Council's last answer short of full military deployment."

"Interesting, normally we deploy our forces first. Solves most problems quickly." He turned back to Benezia, "And you are a… Matriarch? Pardon me, I believe the exact meaning is being lost in translation."

She replied, "Allow me to clarify. In Asari culture, most Asari live their lives in three main stages. Our young first go through life as a Maiden, a stage of restlessness and curiosity, to explore and experience. After a few hundred years in, they would move into the Matron stage, where like most races in their halfway point, they settle down. Near the final centuries of our lives, we enter the Matriarch stage, a form of eldership where we impart our wisdom and the experience we have gained in life. Naturally, each Asari goes through these steps in their own pace. Do humans have similar stages of life?"

Bishop thought about it, "It's hard to compare between a short lived species like us, and a race capable of living an entire millennium. We have our youth, adult, and elder stages of life. I would argue that, as a whole, we are more focused on what we want to do throughout life. It's how Humanity has been able to achieve so much in our short time." He gave a short chuckle, "Eldership, as far as the government is concerned, is when you're old enough to collect social security. It's usually short of the average age of death."

"And you, Mr. Bishop. With what you have accomplished in your life, have you gained wisdom?"

He paused, unsure of what to say as he held his mouth open. Thinking about it, his life only brought up feelings of regret more than what he learned from his accomplishments, "If you ask me, individually, it can turn into a blur until death sweeps us away. Whether a few centuries or a few decades, we all have those pivotal moments in our lives. But what we all have in common is that once it's gone, it's gone."

Benezia nodded, fascinated by the information on her guests, and curious by his words, "How interesting. Still, my three very prominent guests, I am surprised your government would allow three heads of industry to tour the alien station of a government they are still in negotiations with."

"I have plenty of influence to go where I please," said Bishop, chuckling at the thought, "For example, my company was the one that built the ship that brought us here."

They all turned and looked out, the _Sagen's Voyage_ holding position a hundred kilometers outside of the Citadel. Benezia nodded, "Your race must be quite capable to build such large vessels." She paused for a moment, before deciding to test his reaction about her own race's ship. "It is unfortunate we lost our own ship of a similar size."

Bishop thought about it for a moment, then remembered about the footage released. He kept a casual tone, "Ah yes, the _Destiny Ascension_. That was unfortunate. But you shouldn't bring ships of that size into such close quarters. I admit we could have just as easily lost the _Thunder Child_. Fortunately, our Naval doctrine favors close quarters, and our ships have titanium tipped bows."

She replied, "It took decades for my people to build her."

"Really?" he smiled and gave a chuckle, still staring out of the viewport, "We began laying down the keel of the _Voyage_ just twelve days ago."

"You completed a ship that size in twelve days? Impossible!" said Nihlus, turning to the humans.

"Construction, industry, logistics. They are but trivial matters to us," he replied, waving off at the viewport.

"How fascinating." Benezia was quite surprised by the human's industrial capabilities, but just as well by Bishop's attitude of it. "We have gotten the impression your race was driven, but I didn't expect something of such immediate result."

"In our religious text, our God created the universe in six days. Pre-Revival interpretation views it as part of the awesomeness of the creator. Post-Revival views see it as the goal set forth for man to match. Oh, I'd give it a millennia or two before we can bend galaxies to our will. I mean, we barley left Earth when I was born…" he smiled and opened his arms out, "And here we are now."

"Interesting you would have such views of your religious texts," responded Benezia. In her old age, she had taken to studying the religions of her own and numerous other races. "Could you explain more?"

"You would be asking the wrong man, or race really. It has always been the human factor that determines whether our religion, or science for that matter has been good or bad."

"I can agree with your point of view, but I still have my doubts regarding your claim of that ship," said Nihlus. He was surprised himself by Bishop's claim, by both his own philosophy and his capabilities. It only seemed natural he would possibly exaggerate on the latter at least.

Bishop shrugged his shoulders, "Well, she is missing her main guns, her engines are underpowered, and her shield array and secondary systems still need calibrations. But you get what you get when you rush…"

"Your ship is… defenseless?"

Benezia quickly turned the conversation away from the thought. He must have slipped the fact from his tongue. "Why don't we continue with our tour?"

Bishop nodded in agreement, gesturing her to lead the way. The officers stood at their posts as they walked down the hallway to the screening post, leaving the view of the agents still at their position at the gate. They passed the security screening post, the finest bio scanners in the galaxy, with several officers behind the counter manning it. As the Matriarch led them through, the officers noticed a slight glitch on their body scanners. The Terrans were being read with a slight spike of radiation, but it could be dismissed as a glitch since the radiological sensors weren't going off.

As they walked out towards the elevator, Bishop sighed out of relief. Their blockers, based also off of a Quarian infiltration system, used mass effects fields to cloak illicit objects. As for the blinding of the mass effect field, he had Williams to thank. After the investment he gave, he was set on getting a return from Terra's shadow.

* * *

 **Part 4:**

 **The Tour - Presidium  
July 1, 2167 11:20:00 UTC**

"Now look at that view…"

Bishop and Wells looked out the view from their elevator as it arrived from the docks and began its slow ascent up the walls of the Presidium. They looked around, taking note of the many attractions. There were the lakes that spanned the ring of the Presidium, buildings that spanned high across the lake, the numerous crowded lanes of skycar traffic. Completing it all was the fake skyline, the blending of white buildings and green flora, and the wide-open view.

The others were more distracted with other thoughts. Music was playing all the while. Nihlus was checking his omnitool, reading through the reports of other agents and officers who were pre-checking the path Matriarch Benezia had chosen for the tour. Combined with increased security across the Presidium, and the decrease of Ward patrols, almost everything was within the Turian agent's satisfaction.

"Wait, so what is going on?" He kept himself at a corner of the elevator, trying to keep his call private from Benezia and the Terrans. "On the Wards? They're held up there, correct? Then keep them there and keep me updated on the situation… No Pallin, use the officers you have on hand. The Council wants the Presidium secured for the rest of the diplomatic talks… Yes, that's a direct order from the Council. Kyrik out!"

He leaned back and rested his head on the wall, sighing. On the other side of the elevator, Patterson stood next to Benezia. The aged Asari was waiting patiently. The younger human had her arms crossed, annoyed.

"So… slow," she said slowly.

Wells looked back for a second, "Hey, the music is nice."

"I hate you, Kerry."

He chuckled as he looked back out of the window, "I love you too, Maggie."

"A bit… impatient?" asked Benezia, curious about Patterson's annoyance.

She sighed, "Our old space elevators are faster than these."

Benezia looked at her, took a quick glance at Bishop and Wells, then back to Patterson. With such an up close look, she looked at her with fascination. For so many reasons, these humans had been sparking her interest. They were young, and they were ever so capable. They had built an empire that seemed to be able to rival the Council. And finally, they looked so much alike. She had seen the images broadcasted a month earlier. She saw their leaders introduce themselves to the galaxy. Humanity bared such a resemblance to them; It was almost uncanny.

But Benezia looked on at the young female human. Her gender was almost identical to the Asari. Her legs were straight, her body form matching in shape and curvature. She had five digits on her hands and most likely feet as well. Her face was young and feminine like an eighty-year-old Asari that had just moved out of her parent's house. Though Patterson might not have liked the complement that she looked like she was eighty. She was only forty-two. The only difference was the skin color, and her head of hair. At one point, the Quarian female came close, but the humans somehow got both qualities.

"I noticed… my race and your race's females, like yourself, bear a striking resemblance."

Patterson took a quick glance. "Huh, oh, yah." She appeared seemingly eager to not entertain the thought as she looked forward again.

Benezia almost felt like entertaining the more far-fetched idea that they might be Protheans after all. The humans seemed so advanced, and recent research indicated the ancients might have watched the Asari. The idea that Patterson might be a Prothean, and that she uplifted them in her image as the Goddess Athame made her giggle.

Patterson noticed and turned to her, Benezia finding herself a bit embarrassed. But she hid it well and decided to move on. Most races had always seen the Asari as the attractive females they were viewed for, even though they were mono-gendered. She wondered about the humans and their state of sexuality.

Benezia took a step closer to her, Patterson turning to her in confusion. She lifted her hand and gently touched the pinkish white skin of the human, slowly brushing her blue palm down her smooth skin. Patterson quickly objected for a moment as she saw Benezia grow closer to her, but was suddenly paralyzed as she felt her soft, cool hand caressing her cheek. She stood there, stunned, slowly glowing red. Her jaw dropped about and she stared on as Benezia leaned closer to her and they locked eyes, the allure of the Asari overwhelming the human.

As they're elevator near the top, Wells turned back, surprised at the sight. He elbowed Bishop, who turned and his eyes went wide with amazement at what he saw. The Matriarch's face was right in front of her, Benezia was smiling as she gazed at Patterson, observing her reaction. Patterson was slowly trembling with a flow of mixed emotions, still paralyzed by the Asari. She felt the Asari's breath against her face, yet she was struggling to remember to breathe.

Bishop turned to Nihlus, calmly asking, "So… is that normal?"

Nihlus turned his head, grunted, and resume to rest it back as he answered, "Two things the Asari are great at. One: Using their arousal and sexual prowess to fuck your brains out. Two: Using their superior biotic abilities to beat all your blood out. And I had the unfortunate experience of the latter, against a damn Justicar."

Benezia took notice of the male's confusion and asked, holding Patterson in her grasp. "She seems so tense. Do humans normally act this way when put in situations like this?"

Wells chuckled and replied, "She's not willing to admit that, like most humans, she goes either way."

"How interesting." She stood back up and let go of her control over her. Patterson stood there for a moment, before she finally snapped. She was in shock, sweating feverishly as she took multiple deep breaths. Benezia was clearly amazed by how little contact it took to stimulate her. "I hope I did not…"

"No, no… it was alright. I mean, it was… customary for your race to do that… right?" She said, hoping what happened was a normal reaction.

"For the young, maybe. But I was truly curious about you and your race." She leaned over and moved closer once more, "Now, I'm more interested in you…"

"Uh…" The elevator finally arrived at its destination, the doors quickly sliding open to the upper levels and balconies overlooking the Presidium. "Oh look, we're here…" Patterson quickly walked out.

* * *

 **Part 5:**

 **Adult** **Video Producers - Presidium** **  
July 1, 2167 12:00:00 UTC**

"We're ruined!"

Aphra Hera and her Turian 'colleague' Dionysus Bacchus slowly walked down the walkway on the Presidium. Dionysus knew his Asari friend was right. But he didn't want to admit it.

"Are you sure? There must have been something left on the servers."

Aphra was ecstatic, "It's all gone, across the entire extranet! Every copy on everyone's server, computers, omnitools; wiped cleaner than an Ardat-Yakshi monk's browser history. Even Citadel Archives got hacked. From _Asari Confessions_ to _Vaenia_. And with the market focus on armament and defense, the entire industry lacks the financial support to rebuild."

He sighed, utterly confused, "Spirits, who could have done this?"

"Could have been some damn Salarian on some moral crusade. And I was making a killing with all those damn Quarians."

They then noticed the increase presence of C-Sec officers on the level as they approached. As C-Sec drones scanned people walking by, they approached an officer to ask what was going on.

"What's with the security?" asked Dionysus.

The officer turned his head over to the balcony, where the Terrans where.

"Some rich Terrans are touring the Citadel while their leaders are in talks with the Council."

"Hmm," she looked closer, noticing two of the younger ones leaning against the railing and enjoying the view. "Dion."

"Yah?"

"Look at that one Terran, I think it's a female."

He looked over, noticing the female, "Spirits, she looked like an Asari with hair!" But he saw something more importantly, the male. "And is that a male version?"

"And they're rich?" She smiled, the alluring smile of a scheming Asari. Knowing the Council, the peace was inevitable, meaning so will their wealth being accessible as well, "I got a plan… Officer, could we… talk to them?"

He shrugged his shoulders, looking to his omnitool, "The scanners read you as clean. Just be aware they have a Spectre as their guard."

"Oh no worry. We just wish… to discuss business."

As they walked over, she nodded to him. Dionysus removed his jacket, straightening his posture and flexing his metal arms. Aphra unbutton her blouse and tightening her breast, her blue glossy cleavage sure to do the work they always had. She puckered her lips and applied her lipstick, a glossy dark blue.

* * *

"Gold, no… Silver, no… maybe Platinum…" As Bishop typed furiously on his watch, an alert appeared, "What… oh. I guess we're making a detour."

Bishop and his team stood at the edge of a balcony at the highest level, overlooking the Presidium. The Matriarch and her Spectre were a few meters away, discussing something of importance as they gave the Terrans some privacy. The level was mostly clear, with minimal civilian traffic and with C-Sec officers scattered about. Bishop was doing his own important task, as his assistants argued a couple meters away.

"I know you like her," said Wells as they leaned on the railing.

Patterson quickly responded in frustration, "Shut up!"

He laughed, "Come on, admit it! Those reports of the Asari are dead on. Almost no one can resist their allure."

"And what about you?" she asked, not letting Wells put the pressure on her.

"Please, Maggie. You know me better than that." They turned and looked over at the Turian some distance from them. "God, I love a man in uniform."

"I'll… keep my options open."

"An incredibly beautiful alien throws herself at you and you say no? I swear, your AIs have more of a libido than you."

Bishop turned to them. "We can talk about Patterson's suppressed sexual feelings and you wanting to bang our guard another time. Now then... Helium?"

As he continued doing his calculations, Aphra and Dionysus approached them. Patterson and Wells turned back, noticing the beautiful Asari and handsome Turian in front of them.

"Good day. If I may ask, are you one of those Terrans?" asked Aphra, locking eyes with her as she gave that smile with her dark blue lips.

Patterson stuttered for a moment before answering, "Uh, yes we are. I am Margret Patterson, CEO of Synthetic Insight. This is my colleague, Kerry Wells, CEO of Hahne-Kedar. Over there is our boss, Jeremey Bishop."

Bishop gave a quick wave, not paying attention.

She paid no attention to the aging, less attractive human and turned back to the young female, "How interesting. Well, as common citizens, we welcome you to our station, and wish you good tidings."

"As do we, to you too."

"If I may ask..." She took a step closer, Patterson once more blushing as Aphra grew closer. Aphra couldn't tell what was more amazing; the fact the Terran human looked so much like an Asari, or how quickly she got hold of the human, growing more red as she got closer, body and all. "I have a business proposition to ask of you."

Patterson suddenly felt the Asari's hand behind her, before being pulled right towards her. Being pressed against her, she looked at her blue face, her tattoo lines drawing Patterson's eyes to her own, down to her blue shinning lips, then finally, her cleavage, only inches below her face.

"Uh, sure?"

Dionysus noticed the male looking on. He seemed to be enjoying the sight, but from some sort of humor in the whole thing then anything sexual. _Maybe this Terran male wasn't interested as his female friend_. Dionysus reasoned, _he might be interested in someone else_.

"Your friend seems… interested."

Wells chuckled, "Oh yes. We been noticing."

"And you, sir?" The Turian decided to make his own move. Both he and his friend were more than producers and business people. "Your friend found the Asari. Have you found someone of your fancy?"

Wells suddenly found himself being approached by the Turian. He looked on at his clean, dark metal skin, his face tattooed with an alluring teal mark that brought out his eyes.

"I have been interested with the variety the galaxy has to offer," he said, crossing his arms. He leaned back against the railing, trying to keep his cool unlike his colleague. With both their jobs running, neither been playing the field. He smiled and nodded, but was just as excited as Patterson. Finally, an alien was coming on to him, "You yourself are quite a specimen."

Dionysus gave a small chuckle, advancing on the Terran, "Well, maybe we can have a conversation like our friends here?"

* * *

"Insufficient data inputted for variable B."

"Bah, I thought so."

Bishop turned away from them, walking down the balcony, typing in new data from his own knowledge of the Terran economy, while his Emily program skimmed the Extranet for Council economic data. He knew, once they open ties with the rest of the galaxy, the framework to connect the two economies together would be created. But it is an absolute necessity that he and the Terran leaders know how they stacked up against the Council's galactic market. One way to do that was to do a value comparison of key products and material mediums, and compare it to potentiality how much each side has. Bishop's great grandfather, Jeremiah Bishop, created a special theoretical equation for that very situation after the development of Warp Drive. It had a 76% accuracy when using old empires from the past for comparison, like between Renaissance Europe or Imperial China.

Bishop browsed through numerous tabs on his screen. Naturally, it had to take account for the fact that two completely different races would have different forms of value medium. Gold and Silver were still precious metals to them. To numerous smaller races' currencies, it was still their standard. But since the expansion into the galaxy, humanity had discarded Gold as nothing more than a conducting material and Silver as a cheap cultural lining for their paper dollars. Copper, common on Earth, proved weirdly rare in the colonies, though Platinum kept its value. Food stuff won't have work either because of the numerous biological barriers between them.

" _Well, we can't flood the market with the metal; we'll end up devaluing it for them and deflate our own currency. What of Massatanium? No, No, we blew our stockpile during the Revival and the rest is all under government control. We have no need for it besides scientific study, and we can't sell it to them… Helium! They still use Helium-3 for fusion, don't they?"_

Bishop nodded adjusted the variables on his watch. _The main fuel source for fusion energy in any field of engineering must be a major commodity for both sides_.

He calculated Helium-3's predicted value on the Council market and compare it to the figures of production by mega-ton release by EAE back in 2166. Cross-reference with their own market's production for the current Council year.

Finally, he altered variable B and evaluate to the Asari only. The Asari economy was the envy of the galaxy. Along with their diplomatic work and technological supremacy, they had all but created the galactic economy before humanity invented the first form of banking. There was already data on their size and worth in comparison to the Turians and Salarians, so all he needed was the Terran's, and basically Humanity's standing to them.

Emily began reevaluating the value approximation. Using the key products, their value in local currencies, and an algorithmically generated set of numbers to compare how each side values said item both culturally and economically, it produced a value for each side on a scale. That ratio could then be used to calculate currency exchange, economic size and product value. Though it was far from accurate, it was a good approximation of comparing economies without going through the far longer process of letting both markets mingle with each other and waiting for years for more precise values to be generated. In economics, any data gathered was only really useful for general predictions anyway, and was often the best kind of data one could get, especially when running a galactic scale economy.

"Ah, here we are… oh. Yah, I thought as much," Bishop grunted, not necessarily surprised by what he got, but nonetheless uncomfortable with it. For all the quick advances humanity it made, Bishop knew the economy wasn't one of them. And now, every other advances they made was coming back to haunt them. To his annoyance, and relief, neither the Terran or Council government realized it.

He turned back and walked over to his assistance.

"Hey guys… what the hell!"

* * *

"Everything is on schedule, yes?" asked Benezia.

"Of course, Matriarch. We are well within the parameters of our schedule. Mr. Elkoss is en route and I arranged everything else to go as planned," replied Nihlus.

"Good," She turned back, noticing some the Terrans talking to some civilians as Bishop was walking around, staring at his screen, "Any word from the Chambers?"

"The talks are proceeding. Though it didn't take long for a Councilor to offend one of them, and for their President to threaten blowing up the Citadel with their ship. Fortunately, they then moved on to actually layout the plans for a peace treaty. Quickly, I might add."

"It's good that they moved on to serious talks."

"It's a bit uncomfortable that we could have been dead an hour ago," Nihlus thought about it, "Unless what that human said was true."

Benezia shook her head, "Now agent Kyrik, I doubt the Terrans would have come here on an incomplete ship."

"I don't know, ma'am. Either they are weaker than we thought, or that man was purposely leaking their weakness for some reason." He crossed his arms, "What can be gained from that?"

"If you truly desire to know, let us rejoin them and continue. Though I doubt he will give out any more information."

"Gladly, ma'am."

"Ah!"

They turned back and quickly ran over to the two Terrans. Patterson had Aphra in a headlock, squeezing tightly as she kicked her legs and tried to pry her way out. Wells had Dionysus leaning over the edge of the railing. He gotten a hold of his own sidearm knife and held it against his throat, the Turian holding his hand up as Wells pinned him. Nihlus raised his pistol, unsure who he was suppose to be aiming at, but Benezia grabbed hold and lowered his arm.

Bishop turned around and was startled by the sight.

"Hey guys… what the hell!"

"These two fuckers were propositioning us to do a damn porn shot with them!" Patterson tighten her lock on the Asari.

Dionysus spoke, "We just wanted to discuss a possible investment. Honest!"

"Yah," Aphra struggled to speak, "We presumed, given your reaction of us, you wanted to be part of the shooting as well."

"This isn't the fucken twenties! We have morals! And I don't want the entire fucken galaxy watching a video of me fucking you!"

Benezia spoke out, wanting to defuse the situation. She was panicking, her guest was about to kill Council citizens, "Please. Let them go. They are not a threat to you."

"Oh, fine."

Patterson let go of her grip and released the Asari. She fell to the floor and gasped for air from her choke; it most certainly didn't felt like that when she did it in her vids. Wells dropped his hand, and pulled the Turian away from the balcony before pushing him back.

"I'm keeping the knife."

Dionysus stumbled, then reached over to pick up Aphra. She stood back up and dusted herself off while buttoning herself up. They both gave them a mean glare at each of the two Terrans, who responded in kind.

"For all we know, they were the ones who destroyed the damn Extranet!" yelled Aphra.

"Extranet service have already been fully restored," said Nihlus. He couldn't believe he was now arguing with a porn star.

Dionysus argued back, pointing at the Terrans, "No it isn't! Our livelihood is ruined! And we'll be damn before we let those who did it get away with it!"

Bishop walked in between them and argued back.

"You should be ashamed of yourself! Your profession is wrong and ungodly. You got what you deserve, you damn whores. Now fuck off! If we can jam an antimatter torpedo up a Turian cruiser's ass and blow it up, then you don't want to see me jam my foot up your ass!"

They reluctantly left, grumbling all the while. Benezia turned to Bishop, intrigued by how he defused the argument.

"How interesting… Do humans hold such position on sexual material?"

"What? Oh, not really," He raised his watch, "Note to self, buy Fornax Studios."

Emily replied, having determine a problem, "Mr. Bishop, market reports indicate Harper Finances have already acquired Fornax two weeks ago."

"Damn…" He chuckled, "Oh well. And you two, I said no mating! A damn embarrassment…"

* * *

 **Part 6:**

 **Bishop and Nihlus  
July 1, 2167 12:30:00 UTC**

"So that ship, the… _Clark_?"

"Oh, so I personally joined my engineers to inspect it after that raid of ours. Apparently, the antimatter regulators were sabotaged."

Nihlus looked at him, confused, "Sabotage?"

They moved towards another part of the Presidium, just another section away. Benezia was talking to the C-Sec officers, making sure no civilians approached them this time. It was clear it only ended with both sides antagonizing the other. As Patterson and Wells examined the architecture of the station, Nihlus joined Bishop at the railings, looking at the view. He also took away Wells' new knife. He couldn't have them walking around armed.

Bishop continued, calm as ever, "So normally, those things can't dish out that amount of firepower. I mean, sure, with a modification to our design, you can nuke a whole damn planet. But it's very difficult to modify the thing that turns the raw energy into a freaking explosion, even at the shipyards, and you can't carry them standard. It's a miracle the _Clark_ didn't blow up the moment it left our bases for its exploration mission… Weird, ships like her don't travel alone."

Nihlus nodded, typing it on his omnitool, which was in transparent mode, "That is weird… Interesting to know though."

Bishop chuckled, "You want to know something else?"

Nihlus crossed his arms, "And that would be?"

"We have thirty thousand ships gathering at the border right now!" Bioshop turned back to leaning on the railing and looking out at the view, "If diplomacy fails, we stand ready to invade the galaxy."

"Really?"

"I presume you would already know," He turned to Nihlus and looked at him. The Spectre couldn't tell if he was casual staring at him or just looking at him, "I mean, you seem to be interested in every tactical fact I said."

"Wait…" Nihlus looked at him, Bishop smiling as the Spectre realized he might have been fed false information. "So everything you said…"

"Oh, no. They're true. Problem is, you can't, from a strategic point of view, use it against us. I mean, if you check the border, then yes, our ships are there. If you have the sensor technology and did the scans, which you can, you'll see the _Sagan's Voyage_ is defenseless and fragile like a Quarian liveship. And lastly, if you attack me, or the President and his convoy, sure you can destroy the _Voyage_. But then our ships can surge the relays and destroy the Citadel, and the rest of our fleet can appear over your homeworlds…" he snapped his fingers, "Like that! And burn them to the ground."

Nihlus looked at him, surprised at his calm assessment of what he and the Council could have used the information, before proving the uselessness of it.

"I'm surprised you would release such information. Make such claims of what we could do and what you would do in return."

"Well, planning these things out was once a job of mine." He sighed. Bishop still remembered that time, "And let's be honest, such information is not hard to get. It's the reason why none of us have things like 'Homeworld location' contingencies. Knowing these things tend to easy, and knowing them tend to not be useful. Rule one is to plan in accordance of what your enemy could do with such knowledge. I know where Palaven is. While maybe not you, I know someone in the Hierarchy already knows where Earth is. Rule two is to never use the most obvious plan to beat your enemy. You can't attack Earth; it's too far deep in the network and too well defended. We won't do it because while I think we could win by numerical advantage; we'll lose too much and gain too little."

Nihlus was now bewildered by the Terran's statement. But he could see the human's logic. The Terrans can predict the Council's moves. And in certain key ways, they allowed the Council to know their plans. If you knew your enemy moves, but they know yours, no one would make the first move. If every option is anticipated by both sides, and both sides knew what they were doing themselves, then every plan can only really end in the long run as a disaster.

"How interesting… You know, there was a time when the Council planned and thought out such actions with a mentality like that."

"So they aren't now?" Bishop laughed for moment, "Oh good, that can be advantageous for us."

"What?"

"I'm kidding agent Kryik. We already know. And so does the Council, to a degree. But the true advantage comes from factors no side knows…" He looked back, noticing Benezia walking back to the with Patterson and Wells, "The advantage goes to who can learn of a weakness that their enemy doesn't even know exist."

Nihlus chuckled. He was starting to see that Bishop wasn't some rich pompous idiot. Well, he was sure he wasn't the latter, anyway. "Terran businessmen seem well adapt in such philosophy of strategy. Are your politicians as well?"

Bishop chuckled, "If I wanted to, it would be me, not President Bowman, meeting with the Council. But that was a long time ago…"

* * *

Benezia arrived, "Mr. Bishop, I hope the view was enjoyable."

"Of course! Truly a galactic wonder the Citadel is. The Protheans truly left a legacy with this station… I don't see how we can match something like it."

Nihlus commented on his last words, "But you're trying?"

Bishop chuckled, "Well, it is no secret back home. Here, the Widow system holds the largest relay junction in the galaxy. But our own version, Arcturus, is only slightly smaller and connects to the rest of the entire Federation. Once the only gateway to Earth, we have been planning on constructing our own station as a new capital for years now. Just recently, the government finally granted approval for construction."

Benezia nodded, fascinated by the idea, "So you plan to build your own version of the Citadel?"

He chuckled and shook his head, "Even I know we can't match this station. But we are on our way. Arcturus Station will soon be the heart, the soul, and the shield of our nation."

"A sight to behold once you're done. I hope to see it one day."

Nihlus commented, "Yes, a strategically located area, like the Citadel. A gateway to your home world and to the rest of the Traverse. I hope to see it too… as a guest of yours."

"I relish the thought," he said with a smile, "Shall we continue?"

"Of course, Mr. Bishop. There are many parts of the Presidium you haven't seen yet. I assure you, the remaining tour shall be calm and pleasant."

"Well, actually," he interrupted. He had been informed some time earlier of his drop off point. It was far from Benezia's planned tour, and it might be far from pleasant, "I was hoping to see a glimpse of the cities located on the Citadel's arms… Wards, you called them, yes?"

Benezia was quickly at a loss with his want to deviate from the tour and the Presidium. Most people, especially high value guests and diplomats, rarely entered the lower cities of the Citadel. The Wards were no different than the cities on most worlds. Vibrant downtown areas in some parts, but slums and less desirable places throughout.

She replied, hoping to place them back on her planned tour, "While the Wards are an interesting place, home to millions alone, there is nothing of major significance you may want to see. Especially, given the short time you have with us."

Bishop answered back, "Nonsense! It sounds like my home city before Unification. An alien version sounds like a great place to see and learn… But of course, if there's some problem to me going, I understand."

"But of course not. As our guest, you deserve to see the entire Citadel. May I suggest we visit one of the more well visited areas, Zakera Ward, forward section?"

"I put my faith in your judgment." _Thank God these aliens are easy to manipulate_ , he thought. He barely had any faith in his own abilities anymore, let alone those of others.

Nihlus spoke out, "Matriarch, we can't deviate there." He leaned in closer to her ear, "There is a C-Sec raid in process. Executor Pallin has taken personal control of the scene to deal with it."

"Then we'll head to the neighboring section. It should be sealed off. But we can't go anywhere else. If they saw what the rest of the Wards are like, it won't look good on us." Benezia was still worried. With everything going on, the Terrans' appearance had the combined effect of civilian unrest. With the death of Fin possibly by their hand as well, the Wards had seen an increase in crime to fill in the vacuum. She turned back to them, "The day grows old. Let us continue, shall we?"

"Yes! Lets."

"Can we please take a faster elevator?" remarked Patterson as they walked away. Benezia took lead with Nihlus as they followed. Bishop trailed them by a few meters.

Keeping his voice low, he activated his comm and reported in.

" _Shodan_. This is _Fianchetto_. Be advised. On the move. Heading to neighboring section of initial meet up. Require change of meet up, over."

A moment of pause followed, the message being sent back to the _Pierpont_ , then the _Sagan's Voyage_ , through QEC back to Earth, then back to the Citadel's AI. Peter then responded. "Copy. Heading to your location. Be advised, area will be hot. Out."


	22. 21: Fianchetto - Part 2

**Chapter Twenty One: Fianchetto Part Two: Intense Negotiations**

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

A quick note for story flow

 **Part One** for this  
is the last chapter.

Thanks for reading,  
Lets go!

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

* * *

 **Part 1:**

 **The Tour - Citadel Wards  
First Day of Diplomatic Talks  
July 1, 2167 13:00:00 UTC**

"Now this is a city!"

They walked out of the elevator, which had traveled several kilometers outward from the Citadel ring into the heart of the ward. At first sight, they experienced the depth of the ward from the inside. Looking up, they could see skyscrapers, nearly a kilometer long, but with little bumps poking out from the arm. Looking beyond the atmospheres and buildings was the other arms, a dozen kilometers away from them. As they looked up, they were looking down on somewhere else.

Around them was the bustling inside of the alien city, hundreds of people moving about to their own activities. Though the never-before-seen aliens stood there in the open, no one paid any attention to them. There were dozens of different races at that part of the ward alone. For the first time, Humanity blended in with the rest of the galaxy. Bishop thought about how that felt. He knew after this meeting with the Council, they and all of the Terran people would never have that anonymity again.

They took a few step forward into what appeared to be a central plaza with numerous branching hallways, wide and open for people to walk through, though some were sealed, like bulkheads onboard the flagships and orbital starbases. The whole area appeared to be a platform, with ramps overlooking a deep crevice going down below. Nihlus had stepped just a short way from them, trying to get more officers and available Spectres to their position. Benezia was also on watch, but made her intention far less obvious. She stayed calm and ordered, but ready to lash out. The Wards were never a safe place. But she was curious. She was sure the humans knew that to some degree.

As Bishop and the others looked around, a nearby cover of a vent opened up. Several kids, of numerous races, including a young Turian boy popped out and ran up to him, joined by some other duct rats from the plaza. Most of them grouped up around Bishop, the tallest no taller than his leg. They were less interested in the fact he was an unknown alien, but more that they could tell he seemed like the richest one, and maybe generous as well.

" _Hey mister, can you spare some credits? Please?"_

" _Yah, mister. We'll take anything. Please. We're starving!"_

As Bishop looked down at them, Benezia tried to discretely brush them away. She was embarrassed that the first thing Bishop saw were some duct rats begging for change.

"Now, now, don't bother this gentleman," she said to them as she tried to walk in-between them.

"Now wait," said Bishop. He held his arm out to block her and asked, "Who are these kids?"

She had a moment of hesitation, before responding in earnest, "They are what the locals call 'duct rats'; abandoned children that live in the streets and ventilation systems of the Wards."

"Dear God, that's terrible," He reached inside his coat and pulled out a wrap of Terran quarters. In his hand was also a small vile of special alien chemicals from Hahne-Kedar Shadow Works, itself a part of Section 14. Bishop quickly placed that back in his pocket before anyone saw it. He looked back down at them, all of them now gathered around Bishop and the Matriarch. "I don't have Council credits, unfortunately. But how about some 'Silver Bishop' quarters instead? They're silver minted!"

" _Wow! Really, mister?"_

Bishop replied by ripping the paper wrap and began dispensing a few quarters into their hands as they held them up. The leader, the Turian boy, held the alien currency up to the light, observing the coin. It was shiny, with a picture of a head similar to the man who gave it to him on one side, and an image of a kind of sun with eight, three line composed rays.

Nihlus, aware that the duct rats were not a threat, ignored them and headed to Benezia. He was well aware of a real one.

"We must leave, now!"

"Quiet! I want to see this."

"There you go." He finished giving a couple of quarters to each of the duct rats, smiling "You can sell it, or melt it down. Technically that's illegal, not that the Federal mint can do anything about it."

" _Thanks, mister!"_

Most of them quickly scattered, heading out to the rest of plaza. The Turian boy was still intrigued by the coin, slowly walking away to a vent near the railings.

Benezia looked to Bishop, amazed by his seeming generosity. "That was very kind of you, Mr. Bishop. My apologies if they took you by surprise."

He looked at them as they continued on, surviving. He sighed, "It's unfortunate they live like this. No child should live without the care, the love of their parents. I know that for humans, it can be damaging. We only recently fixed this problem on our home world, but the damage was done. We'll always feel it."

She was at a loss for words. She never really thought about the plight of others around the galaxy, having stayed in the prosperity of Asari space for centuries. It was why shorter-lived creatures always fascinated her. An Asari could live long enough to forget. But it was clear that a human like Bishop couldn't.

"It is a tragedy. To be abandoned must have been horrific."

He took note of her wording, "I like to think I would know, but not from the perspective you would think…"

* * *

An explosion rang out, one of the bulkheads in the next sector had burst open. The shockwave quickly flew through, knocking everyone to the ground. The sound of gunfire and smaller explosions rang out from the breach. They all lay there for a moment, dazed as C-Sec officers retreated from the breach and took cover in the plaza.

Nihlus quickly got up, quickly checking on Benezia before he rushed to join the officers. Bishop quickly regained his bearings. The sound of the intense gun battle filled the plaza; he was momentarily paralyzed as he flashed back to London nearly thirty-three years ago. But a scream quickly got him back to the present. He looked around, noticing the others were down, but when he turned to his right near the railing, he noticed what looked like a talon hanging on to the edge of the floor.

"Oh crap!"

He stumbled his way up and ran to the edge, grabbing on to the small Turian boy's arm as he fell back onto the ground. The Turian looked up at Bishop as he dangled from the edge over the crevice. With one hand grabbing on to the boy's arm, he held his other one out, yelling for the boy to grab on to his hand.

"Give me your other hand!"

The boy looked at it for a moment, but then looked at his free talon. In it were the few coins Bishop had given him. It didn't take much for Bishop to realize that the boy valued the spare change over his life. That was greatest tragedy of all, he rationed. Bishop grabbed on with both hands to the boy's arms and pulled him up. He himself was in no real shape to do so.

"No more drinking, no more drinking!"

With one last heave, he pulled the Turian boy over the edge and back onto the platform. As the battle across the plaza raged on, Bishop struggled for breath.

"I need a damn drink after this!"

The boy lay there, still shaken up. Bishop sat back up and took hold of him, pointing over to a vent the others were escaping.

"Get out of here!"

The Turian snapped out and nodded to him. It wasn't the first time someone said that to him, but he was more than happy to oblige this time. He ran and ducked into the vent, away from the battle.

Bishop got up, staying low as the others regained consciousness. He took out his KC M-2111 and rushed over, avoiding stray fire. He pulled back the slide, immediately cursing out as he ejected another unused round from his gun.

Benezia, frustrated over the whole turn of events, and now for being knocked out by a simple blast, was quick to get up. She quickly found Bishop rushing up to her.

"We need a barrier, now!"

She didn't question it and quickly took action, using her superior biotics to generate a barrier for them. As she advanced forward to support Nihlus and the other officers, Bishop rushed over to Patterson and Wells. Helping them back up, he pointed them over to the biotic Matriarch.

"Lock and load, and cover her advance. I'll go left!"

They dusted themselves off and took out their weapons. They rushed over to Benezia's side, opening fire on the enemy with their mag-rail pistols and submachine guns. Benezia was amazed at the sight, two suddenly armed Terrans now fighting alongside them.

On the other side, several heavily armed criminals, with a Krogan leading their middle, fought it out with a detachment of C-Sec officers. Pallin himself, forced to lead what was a raid on a small warehouse due to most of his main officers being dragged away by the Council, was in the middle behind some abandoned skycar as they tried to hold the gang and their Krogan back. The operation had gone flipside quickly.

Bishop ran up to a nearby skycar, opening fire with his pistol to cover his own advance. He jumped into cover and sat back up, emptying his magazine for one of his two spare magazines. Beside him were a Turian and Salarian C-Sec officer, staying down as the gunfight drew out.

"Nice day we're having, huh?" he yelled at them through the sound of gunfire all around. He hadn't expected the passcode to be uttered in this kind of situation.

"Yah, yah, Bishop. It's us, _Shodan_!" said Peter as the Salarian.

Bishop finished reloading and pulled out an OCD. "Take this and run it back on your servers. You are to follow its directive and coordinate with Team Hal, Cabal, and Glados!"

"Why the hell can't this be transmitted on the QEC?" Above them, a building's windows were blasted out.

"QEC is secure between point A and point B, but not at A or B. We needed to make sure only trusted people got a hold of it. Now take it and go! And don't crash the extranet this time, we need it as well!"

"Fine, fine. We're going!"

They took the OCD and ran from cover, leaving altogether through the confusion of the battle. No one noticed, the battle raging on as both sides tried to push the other back.

Bishop peered around, quickly ducking back as sand grain rounds passed where his head was. He took a deep breath and exhaled as he rose up, took aim, and fired several rounds at a thug. Two of his high velocity 11mm rounds broke his barrier; the other two went on ahead and lodged into his shoulder and chest, knocking him down. He quickly pivoted and took aim at another thug.

Patterson turned and fired at the same one, using her numerous smaller rounds to overwhelm his barrier. Bishop fired two rounds, hitting center chest at the thickest part of the armor. The thug stumbled back, but Wells took aim and used his greater kinetic power pistol to penetrate, putting him down for sure.

Rallying around them, the entire group focused their fire, driving the thugs back through the other side of the bulkhead. From behind them, reinforcements finally arrived as C-Sec shuttles were seen overhead and landed in the plaza, adding to their number. After a short increase of firepower, the rest of the thugs began to retreat back into the other sector, some C-Sec shuttles skipping the plaza and heading over to the next area.

But the rest of them still bunkered down, the Krogan still holding his ground, brushing off their fire. With a Claymore in hand, he fired away, jagged spikes flying out and shredding anything it hit like sharp teeth. The officers and Nihlus kept him pinned at his spot as Benezia's barrier resisted his shotgun fire with ease, keeping some of them protected.

Bishop reloaded his last magazine and fired, emptying six of his eleven round magazine. Seeing he didn't have any effect on either his barrier or his thick hide armor, Bishop improvised, looking up above the Krogan. Luckily, there was a large sign for a store above him, Bishop took aim and fired at the hinges, emptying his pistol. With his last two shots, the sign fell off, swinging like a pendulum as one hinge snapped. Nihlus took notice and fired the last round, breaking the last hinge at the right moment, the large electric sign coming down right on the Krogan.

* * *

 **Part 2:**

 **The Tour - Citadel Wards** **  
July 1, 2167 14:00:00 UTC**

"Damn it, Kryik!"

As the officers re-secured the plaza, Executor Pallin was yelling at the Spectre at the top of his voice. He didn't care that the man was a Spectre, above his jurisdiction. As far he cared, it was Nihlus' fault that he didn't have the officers he needed for their assignments, for the operations going wrong, for the delay in reinforcements due to the no high altitude fly zone by anyone, and for the complete destruction of the plaza.

"What in the Spirits are you whining about now?" he asked as he checked his equipment and walked over to the Matriarch.

He stopped him, grabbing his shoulder and turning him back as he got up in his face, "This is all your fault! I demanded reinforcements, and you diverted _my_ men to the Presidium. So you could protect some damn aliens, who ended up in danger anyway!"

"Everything turned out right, didn't it?" Nihlus stared him back, "No one was severely injured, plus you secured the warehouse and killed their leader. All in a damn day's work."

"I wanted that Krogan alive! Now he's a damn squashed Rachni!" He turned back to Bishop, a few meters from them. "And you!"

Bishop turned around and greeted him with a smile, "Hello, the name's Bishop."

"Do you think you can break the law?" Pallin was not happy at all with his cool demeanor.

He shrugged his shoulders, "Well, I am rich, so… yes?"

"You are not allowed to carry weaponry on the Citadel!"

Nihlus nodded, agreeing with him, but wasn't really upset over it, "Ah yes, I'm curious as well. They must have eluded our sensors…"

"And you didn't give them a basic pat down? Do our Spectres not know how to do something as simple as frisk a person?"

"If the Terrans did not come armed, we might not have been able to hold back those thugs long enough." He turned to Bishop and nodded, "I'm impressed by your decision to drop a sign on that Krogan."

"Nah, forget about it. I see it on TV all the time."

"TV?"

Pallin interrupted them, "I don't care. When the Council hears about this, they won't let you get away…"

They all heard a commotion, the loud sound of grinding metal behind them. They all turned back, seeing as two officers approached the broken sign. In a moment, they were thrown back as the Krogan burst out, now in full bloodrage. He gave out a roar, thumping his chest plate as he knocked away officers trying to tackle him. He then took aim at them and charged.

Nihlus and Pallin took aim, but Bishop quickly decided for more firepower. He took out another roll of quarters and pulled out the vile of chemicals this time. As the Krogan charged at them, he quickly hurried to rip a piece of the wrap, revealing all the coins. He looked over, horrified at the sight of the charging beast. He used his teeth to open the vile and poured the chemicals on the silver coins. Immediately, they turned gold, before the entire roll began vibrating in his hand.

"You're about to get _Judas_ , you damn frog bat!"

Bishop took aim and tossed the roll of silver coins, still wrapped in the paper coil, at the Krogan. He shoved both Turians down and yelled at the others to take cover, Beneiza quickly ducking and raising a barrier around all of them. The Krogan quickly caught it, fascinated by it for a second.

It was all the time needed, the chemical destabilized the silver and caused a massive release in energy. A substantial explosion rang out and consumed the Krogan. Bishop ducked as the still moving Krogan head came right at him as it flew across the plaza. In a moment, it was all over, nothing left but pieces of flesh and body armor, and a blast mark where the Krogan had stood.

As they got back, Nihlus looked on in wonder, then looked at Bishop. "That was amazing…"

Bishop himself was celebrating, "And he caught the pass! Touchdown, Raiders!" He turned to Patterson and Wells and they gave each other double high fives. He turned to Matriarch Benezia for a moment, holding his hands up. She looked on in confusion before she slapped her hands against his, fascinated by the human form of celebration.

Nihlus turned to Pallin, "Now he's dead. I think that solved everything."

"This isn't the last you've heard of me. I'll jail you all!"

He marched off, fuming as officers began cleaning up and double-checking the perimeter. Nihlus looked on, impressed by the human in so many ways.

* * *

 **Part 3:**

 **The Tour - Presidium** **  
July 1, 2167 15:00:00 UTC**

The elevator arrived and the doors opened up. The five of them walked out, once more on the Presidium. They were on a center level, with light foot traffic from pedestrians, but with heavy C-Sec presence throughout. There was a small crowd gathering up ahead of them, but they hadn't noticed yet. Bishop walked out first, his suit covered with dust and blast residue, but he was energetic nonetheless.

The rest of them were in similar shape but hardly echoed Bishop's high spirits. Patterson and Wells walked out. They were tired, covered in dust, soot on their clothes and on their faces, though Patterson took out a napkin for herself and Wells to clean up. It was not enough but it was better than nothing. Nihlus was as steady as ever, keeping his eye on the perimeter, but he knew there wasn't anything in particular at this point. Benezia, her bright dress dirtied, was exhausted as well from her biotic use. She was also disappointed; her tour for the important Terran guests was now a disaster.

"So, where to now?" asked Bishop. After that battle, he was glad to be back. His mission was done.

Benezia walked over to him, "Maybe we should head back to your ship. It's been a long day, especially given what happened."

"Nonsense, we're perfectly fine. Right?" He turned to Patterson and Wells for an answer. He quickly added on, knowing they would say otherwise, "Also, there is a right answer to that question…"

"We're good to go!" said Wells instinctively.

"Yah, absolutely," Patterson sighed, slouching, "Let's keep going!"

"See?"

"Mr. Bishop, I must apologize," Benezia felt terrible over what happened. She had planned out her tour with precision and detail, timing each location they would visit, and who they meet. It only took one detour to expose more of the less than ideal parts of the Citadel and put them in harm's way. "I had planned so much for your tour. But I failed to anticipate so many other variables that could have happened. Having you get involved in that battle was a failure on my part in protecting your safety. Allowing you to see that was a very bad impression on all of us."

Bishop felt a bit bad. It was his idea to divert from her planned tour. It was indirectly his fault that the Terran AI agents had to provoke a local gang to attack them just to get the opportunity to hand off the OCD. He had received intel from them about the Matriarch's planned tour. For once, he would have preferred a simple tour. Still he saw no reason to let it all go waste. It was why he brought them here from the Wards.

"Matriarch Benezia. You have nothing to apologize for. These things, they happen. I mean, it was rude of me to ask to go somewhere lacking in security. I shouldn't have brought weaponry and improvised explosives with us, though I do expect your Chief Pallin to give me back my gun, as it was a gift from my wife. And I'm sorry much of our time was wasted fighting criminals and blowing up that frog bat thing. It was rude to you, our hostess, and it was very poor impression of myself, my colleagues, and my race."

She was amazed by Bishop's counter, "I see… Well, what has happened has happened, there is nothing either of us can do about it now."

"But I disagree. I was waiting to mention this later, but the timing is right… About your ship."

"The _Ascension_?"

"Your gift, to your daughter."

Benezia looked at him, utterly surprised he would know such a thing, "But… how do you…"

"The official story, one you will hear from my government until the end of time, it that we do not know where those ships are, or who took them. Those onboard were randomly found in the jail cell in a starbase several days ago. The truth, we already disassemble them. Everything inside, now government property."

"Oh…" She sighed, "I see."

Bishop smiled, "But for you, allow me to make amends, for everything… My intelligence says your daughter is a Prothean archeologist?"

"Why yes… yes she is."

"Well, it seems many here think we have some relationship with the Protheans. Not really. But the chance to study our ruins would be a once in a life time chance. Matriarch Benezia, land I own on Eden Prime, our oldest colony, is a major Prothean site, limited to the finest government screened scientist in the Federation. When this is all over, I welcome your daughter to study them to her heart's content."

"Mr. Bishop…" Benezia was utterly touched by his gesture. Her heart clenched, she was almost moved to tears. She took a deep breath and kept her composure, "I am honored by your gift."

"It is the least I can do… At least one parent and their child should be happy."

"There is so little I can do now… If you wish, we can continue and make the most of your time here."

He nodded as he whipped out a handkerchief and wiped his face of Krogan goo, "I would be honored if you continued guiding us… Hey what's going on there?" Bishop turned to the crowd that was slowly growing in size across from them near a skycar lot. He figured that Benezia must have forgotten about the Volus she had planned for Bishop to have a "random" encounter with. He hadn't done much research on who he was, but figured she was hoping the meet up may lead to some business transaction. He was more than happy to oblige, he and the entire Federation could use the business.

* * *

 **Bishop and Elkoss - Presidium**

Bishop walked up ahead, the others followed suit. Bishop waved to them to follow him, as he squeezed through the crowd, shoving several of them to the side. They squeezed their way in as well, making their way to the front with Bishop. As they got closer, they noticed a short figure in the middle, talking to multiple people.

"Mr. Elkoss, what's your opinion on the thieves of those ships docked on the Presidium a week ago?" asked a CNN news reporter.

"That?" He took a deep breath. "Ah yes, I heard all of the Quarian pilgrims on the Citadel stole them. The Asari hostess has only herself to blame. She was trying to make money off people's fear… Wish I'd thought of it myself though. Well, almost. I guess the Quarians bought into her message and decided to take them… literally."

Bishop turned to Benezia, and asked the question he already had the answer to, "Matriarch, who's that?"

She turned to the Volus to get a good look, "Ah, of course." She smiled, glad they encountered the key person of her planned tour, "He is Rupe Elkoss, the President and CEO of Elkoss Combine. He's a Volus."

"Volus?"

"Unlike a vast majority of life, he is an ammonia based life form."

Bishop nodded, giving a mock look of understanding, "Cleaning solution, got it… He seems important…. What does Elkoss Combine do exactly?"

"Well Mr. Bishop. I believe it is similar to your company. His company is one of the largest manufactures in the galaxy. His company supplies nearly every major race, company, and mercenary group in the galaxy with supplies and armament. His wealth is very considerable."

"Perfect!"

Bishop pushed his way through to the front, hearing another question.

"Mr. Elkoss, in spite of the Terran diplomatic convoy and their own leader here on the Citadel, there is still worry war may break out between them and the Council. Would the Council be ready to switch into a full time wartime economy?"

He took another deep breath and answered, "Elkoss Combine is the main contractor for all three Council races and the combined Council Military. If war breaks out, you can rest assured that my company can make all the ships, weapons, armor, and coffins the Council will need to win a war with these Terrans. Even then, given their quick induction of the Quarians and Batarians onto their Federation, I doubt their economy can handle such a war if they need help from them."

Insulted by what Bishop knew was his rather accurate comment, Bishop pushed his way through to the crowd and popped up in front of everyone. The crowd looked on at the sudden appearance of a Terran, gasping could be heard from some as the news cameras turned to him. Bishop stood straight and tall as he radiated Terran confidence.

"I disagree, Mr. Elkoss!" He turned around and looked to the whole crowd, "The Terran Military-Industrial Complex is the finest war manufactory in the galaxy!"

The crowd went silent at Bishop's claim. Elkoss looked up to him, chuckling.

"So you say, sir. Tell me, who are you?"

He turned to him and answered, adjusting his tie and dusting himself off as he began, "The name's Jeremy A. Bishop, the CEO of Quantum Core Industry. My company owns controlling shares of every military contractor working for the Terran government. I am the man running the production of our military's capabilities."

Elkoss gave a short nod, "Really? How fascinating," he took a deep breath, "So what proof do you have that you Terrans match a power like us?"

Bishop himself chuckled, turning about to gather the attention of the crowd, "Forty years ago, and yes our years are the same as yours, the United Terran Federation had barely over a hundred ships in its Navy, the Army less than half a million soldiers, and a few colonies beyond our home world. Thanks to the superior industrial might of the Terran economy and the outright tenacity of the human race, we now stand at over seventy-five thousand ships strong, the Army has soldiers in the tens of million, each highly trained and equipped, and our economy can pump out two metric tons of supplies every day for a whole decade for every single military personnel."

"You say these numbers, yes," commented Elkoss. The crowd watching on at their exchange, "But tell us this. What makes you think the Terrans, let alone your race, the humans, can match the military might of the Turians, the biotic and cultural prowess of the Asari, or the intelligence and scientific supremacy of the Salarians?"

"Match?" Bishop chuckled. He was well aware of the limitations of his own people. But he knew exactly where he was able to draw strength from it. "Mr. Elkoss, if you are asking me if Humanity has an Army greater in size or a Navy greater in capability to the Turians, biotics that can go toe to toe with someone like the fair Matriarch here, or spies as agile and quick as the Salarians here, then no. No we don't."

The crowd began talking to each other over what he said, Elkoss surprised by his statement.

"You don't?"

"Ah, but that is where you have erred, my ammonia based friend. You asked the wrong question." He walked up to him and bent down to him, coming face to facemask. "You see; you draw your power from a coalition of the most powerful races in the galaxy. For the Council, they need the Asari, the Salarians, and the Turians, all of them expected to be the formidable might they are. I'm well aware. But Humanity… we don't have to." He quickly stood back up, talking to the crowd, "For you see, my race is the most dangerous thing the Council has ever faced. Our armies and fleets can come close to matching the best of the Turians. Our biotics, though young, can train to match nearly anything the Asari can muster. And our intelligence programs, newborn in comparison to the centuries old STG, can come close to matching the brain power of Sur'Kesh's best.

Now you wonder, all of you. What good can come from being, in simple terms, second best? Simple, because we, as one race, can do it all! You need every major race to create the full might for the Council. All of the Turians, Asari, Salarians are needed to be a power. The Federation just needs us. Humanity alone can compete with all of you. You needed the Krogan to beat back the Rachni, and you needed the Turians to fight the Krogan. But what can you offer to fight us? We have scientists and engineers that can match the finest Quarian mechanics. We can field billions of soldiers like the Krogan, every man and woman ready to fight and die for Terra. And we can be as brutal as the Batarians, for if we so really willed it, the galaxy would already be under our great Democratic Hegemony!"

"You say all this," argued Elkoss, walking around in the opposite direction of Bishop, thought Bishop slowed down for the Volus to match, "Where is your proof, sir?"

"My proof?" he held his hands out chuckled, shaking his head, "Look at what we have already done. Your greatest ship failed to stop our own. We swept through the Hegemony and the Traverse, no one able to oppose our might. Our science, our technology, our tenacity! Simply unmatched by your own. Mr. Elkoss, I am one of the reason Humanity stands here. Though we are young, though we know so little of the actual universe, it is thanks to people like me why I can stand here, not as a youngling who bows before the elder, but as an equal!"

The crowd was completely shocked by his words. The Terran had made his case clear for all. A few Asaris and Salarians fainted from hearing the Terran Navy's ship count alone, the Turians in the crowd suspicious of the claim his race alone could even come close to their own, let alone match everyone in their specialized might. But Elkoss stood there, looking up at him, paying close attention to his counterpart.

"Sir… you are quite fascinating indeed. The name's Rupe Elkoss, of Elkoss Combine. I was about to go to lunch when the media ambushed me. Would you and the lady Benezia be so kind as to join me?"

Bishop chuckled and gave the Volus a bow, "I'd be honored. Please, lead on."

* * *

 **Part 4:**

 **The Tour - Presidium Restaurant** **  
July 1, 2167** **15:30:00 UTC**

"Now this looks fancy," said Bishop as he stumbled out of the car.

They exited the sky car and stepped onto the lot platform, now on the other half of the Presidium loop. Ahead of them was a fancy restaurant, the _Luxus Recubitas_ , a Turian owned establishment. At the main entrance was a long line, stretching around the corner.

"One of the finest dining establishments on the Citadel," he took a long deep breath, "One of the few to serve food for Volus as well."

"That line is long," commented Patterson. It consisted of assortment of upper class Asari, Turian, Salarians, and diplomats from the numerous smaller races.

"The average wait… We don't."

They walked over to a private entrance. There, the doors opened as the head hostess, a female Turian, walked out to greet them.

"Mr. Elkoss. Your guests have already arrived," she then noticed Matriarch Benezia and the Terrans, her mandibles wide open, "And Matriarch, I'm honored by your presence… uh, may I ask who they are."

"I am surprise you do not recognize them. They are the Terrans. This group is touring the Citadel."

She murmured to herself, mix emotion. She asked her, "I see. And may I ask why you are all dirtied up?"

Benezia hesitated for a moment, but Bishop replied without a care, "We were in a fire fight an hour ago," He smiled, "I killed a Krogan."

She looked at him, in no way believing what he just said. She turned to the Matriarch, who gave her the stare that told her everything she heard was true. The first interaction between her race and Bishop's was two Turian cruisers being destroyed. Her first in person impression was a rather fragile looking Terran calming stating he killed a Krogan.

"Of course… Let's have you seated, shall we?"

The hostess turned back, calling for a waiter to come and pick up Mr. Elkoss.

"You prefer being carried?" Asked Bishop with a chuckled.

"We Volus are not physically fast creatures," he took another deep breath, "Even on our own worlds. Besides, I can afford to be carried where ever I pleased."

"Usually I get carried out of places, by these two here... Mainly because it was on fire… because I trashed the place… because I picked a few fights… because I was in a drunken stupor."

Patterson made a snarky side comment, "And that's why we aren't allowed into any Disney World anymore."

"Oh the Pyongyang one was overrated anyway," said Wells as he chuckled.

Benezia turned to Nihlus as they walked in. He remained outside, looking out to the skycar traffic lanes.

"Are you not coming in?"

"I been informed of a new update from the Council. I will be waiting here for the mean time."

"I see. As you were then."

"Ma'am."

They entered through the private doors and into the restaurant. In spite the generally limited spacing on the Presidium and the low profile appearance on the outside, the inside was quite spacious. The tables were well spaced part, each group sitting had the luxury of chair and leg room. On each table were white silk lining with gold trimmings, beige porcelain plates with moderate proportions of alien food. At one booth table, Bishop saw a Turian with what seemed like a steak, rare, and an Asari with a desert looking dish with whip cream and some green and golden flakes finely placed in top of it.

As they made their way, Bishop noticed a far larger creature at one table, with another Volus, Asari, Turian, and Salarian sitting with it.

"An… Elcor, correct?"

"I see you studied up on the high ranking races of the galaxy," Responded Elkoss, "the one there is Ambassador Calyn. Appears to be in a sit down with the others."

They detoured and walked over to the table. Having been in a heated argument a moment earlier, they all stopped and turned to Elkoss as they walked up. The three Council race ambassadors were quick to recognize the Terrans with him.

"Rupe, there you are," Responded Korlack. He seemed to be frustrated over what they were talking about later, "Help me here."

"Here we go again…" He and the waiter turned back to Bishop, "Mr. Bishop, may I introduce you to Ambassador Korlack, for the Volus people." He pointed over to the others, "This is Ambassador Irissa for the Asari, Ambassador Valern for the Salarians, and Ambassador Quentius for the Turians. And as mentioned earlier, Ambassador Cayln for the Elcor."

"Intrigue: So this is a Terran in the flesh?" asked Calyn in his race's usual monotone voice.

"You are correct," replied Bishop, "Ambassadors, I am Jeremy Bishop. CEO of the largest company in the United Terran Federation, Quantum Core Industry."

"Pleasure to meet you," replied Quentius, "Sparatus and the Council were quite determined to make sure we didn't meet your kind in person today."

Irissa, resting against the back rest of her with her arms resting on top of them, spoke, "So these are the pyjacks?" She took a look at Bishop and the other human, Wells, not particularly impressed. "Another bag of dicks…" She then turned to Patterson, far more fascinated by the human female, "Hmm, and who is she?"

"My name is Margret Patterson, the CEO of Synthetic Insights. This is my colleague…"

"I don't care about him." She turned to Benezia, "Well Benezia, what do you think?"

She smiled and replied, "Their females are quite interesting, to put it slightly."

In a rare sight, Irissa smiled. Unlike most, she was a colder person. It came with working the mercenary fields as a maiden. She was once even a lieutenant of the famed Queen of Omega.

"Agreed."

"Wow, you're really catching their attention Maggie," Said Wells as he laughed a bit. "So lucky…"

She was nearly red all over, embarrassed and in rage, "I hate you so much Kerry."

"Bah!" Korlack interrupted, "Can we get back to important matters before we were interrupted?"

The Council ambassadors groaned, tired and frustrated over the entire thing. Once more, Korlack was in talks with the three races to get his race their own seat on the Council. Cayln was there as his 'support', but even the Elcor, slow in their decision making, have reached the foregone conclusion. The entire thing was just a waste of time.

There were always good arguments for the Volus. They were one of the first race in the Council, entering only a few centuries after its formation. They were the primary reason the Council Credit exist, the de facto currency in the galaxy. Their economy was also one of the largest. Because of them, their protecting power, the Turian Hierarchy, was the second largest economy in the galaxy, though it was still small to the Asari.

"Here he goes again," said Elkoss. Even he didn't have much faith in it happening. "Always he tries to get them to give our race a seat on the Council. Honestly, it just makes us look sadder than usual."

Bishop crossed his arms, interested, "A seat on the Council? Could you explain that?

Valern responded, "As your leaders most likely told you, each race on the main Council are alone galactic powers by their own right. But this is for the greater good, you see."

Irissa continued, "Our three races make up nearly 95% of the galactic economy. We are the ones that built the modern instructor that has been used for millennia. Without us, there is no galactic economy."

Quentius finished, "And each of us must have the capability to defend the galaxy. Our military might has fought off many great threats in the past. Without us, there would be no civilization at all."

Elkoss turned to Bishop, taking a deep breath, "The simple truth is, the Volus lack the military might to do what the Asari and Salarians did during the Rachni war, or what the Turians did during the Krogan Rebellion. Our political condition isn't at a level the others are; a client state of the Turians will always remain that way. Though without our wealth, the Hierarchy would be only a quarter the size of the Salarian Union."

"Now that isn't true!" argued Quentius, "Though we are most appreciative of the Volus and our other client race's contribution, the Turian and our main economy have grown by leaps and bounds."

"Yes, yes. Keep telling yourself that. One day, you'll believe it and you wouldn't need us as much to prop you up."

Quentius became more enraged, but he kept his cool and made effort to not show it. He prided himself as Sparatus' opposite, calm and rational to the more eccentricness of the Councilor. He was no pushover though, but unlike Sparatus, he had the career to back it up.

Bishop, not impressed by the infighting, commented, "How interesting… Well, it was good to meet you all. Mr. Elkoss, shall we continue?"

Korlack quickly interrupted, "What? I need Elkoss, now!"

Bishop chuckled and joked to him, "He's mine for the meantime. You can have him later."

"Bah! No less than a day on the Citadel and you think you can walk over us! I read up on your race from those STG reports…"

"And you got those reports how?" asked Valern.

"None of your concern." He turned back to Bishop, "We been space faring before your race even invented bronze. We were a civilization, when you still lived in a cave."

"And yet here you are!" yelled Bishop. His tone changed, for a playful carelessness to a more aggression tone. Elkoss took note as he spoke, far different then the lecture Bishop told him earlier. "Thousands of years, now a subject of another race. We humans weren't even space faring a hundred years. Yet here we are! The Council wanted to negotiate with us! They reached out to us! Because we are the newest power. The newest and greatest threat! Let me make it clear, you are alive right now, you exist right now, because we are the ones who choose and will it." He pointed at Korlack, "So fight as much you want to, to be on the same level as these three here. But remember your damn place when it comes to us! None of you are even close!"

Bishop walked away, joining Elkoss and the waiter as they headed to the table. The rest of them were stunned at the human's declaration of superiority. All of the Council Ambassadors knew part of what he said was true; they were the ones wanting the peace, for the Terrans had the firepower to end them all.

As they walked away, Irissa grabbed Patterson's arm and pulled her closer. She looked at the surprised human with her glistering, yet cold eyes.

"I would be very interested if I may be able to… experience a member of such a 'powerful' race," She chuckled, "Like maybe yourself?"

"Uh…" She nearly turned red as she perspired, her wet arm allowing her to slip out of the Asari's grasp, "Maybe some of the time…"

She quickly walked off, joining them.

She chuckled, "Interesting…"

Quentius singled with his talon for a glass of wine, "Maybe they are great. Their females looked like a Asari with a Quarian hair wig."

"Maybe…" She shook her head as she gave near sinister giggle, "But I doubt it. They have males. Such a loss for them…"

"Can we get back to the matter at hand," asked Korlack.

"Politely with underlining resentment: Can we just order please?"

* * *

 **Part 5:**

 **Bishop and Elkoss - Presidium Restaurant** **  
July 1, 2167** **15:40:00 UTC**

"That was an interesting show," said Elkoss as they arrived, "A bit different then what you told me."

"I gave you the generic Stewart Speech. Sometimes, you just need to get in their face and knock them down."

"The audacity alone is admirable. But of course, you can back it up?"

Bishop still had the report he compiled in his mind. He knew where they were really weak at. Yet no one else on either side seem to have noticed. A mistake by both sides, the advantage going to whoever can see it first. And more importantly, act on it, "To a degree, yes."

They reached their table. It was an ideal located spot, in a smaller private area of the restaurant, separated by thin paper walls for sight and a mass effect barrier for sound. At the table was a Turian and Quarian, sitting down as they conversed over what to order from the menu.

They both turned and stood up as they noticed his arrival.

"Mr. Elkoss!"

"Dorian, Nellia," The waiter placed him in his special booster seat, "Mr. Bishop, may I introduce Dorian Actaus and Nellia'Ronia."

He singled them to sit. The Hostess thanked him and left, returning to the front. The waiter waited just outside, ready to take their order once they were ready.

"So you're a human then?" asked Nellia.

"Oh good. Someone knows my race!" Bishop chuckled and nodded to her, "Yes I am. The name's Bishop. These are my colleagues, Wells and Patterson."

Patterson, a bit tuned out, focused in on that, "Hey, he finally called us 'colleagues'!"

"Did I? I mean assistants. _Assistants_." He chuckled, "Can't let them get ahead of themselves."

"Thanks a lot Maggie, that close," said Wells in disappointment.

"Leave it to Bishop to turn a CEO positon into a dead end career."

Elkoss continued, "Anyway, these two are actors, the stars for a vid a subsidiary of mine is producing. _Fleet and Flotilla_."

"Vid… You mean video? Movie?" Bishop grabbed a cloth and unfurled it, "Must be a translator thing. Please continue."

Dorian responded, "It's a romance, with a master script. Of two star-crossed lovers…"

"A Quarian and a Turian, who yearn for each other. Divided by society, politics, and the vastness of the galaxy, but their love knowing no bounds," finished Nellia.

"Ah, how romantic…" said Patterson.

"Eh, Jade was the one who was into those things…" Bishop thought out about it. He might have reversed that.

"Still, we were hoping for a release in the next month… hoping," said Elkoss, "Renewed tensions with the Quarians, admittedly due to your introduction to the galaxy, has made that less viable."

"I see. I see… The market here is not receptive to your film… But mine most likely is."

Elkoss took a deep breath, fascinated, "Your people watch vids then?"

"Yes. And thanks to… patriotic fervor, they are very pro-Quarian at the moment."

"How interesting. After the peace talks concludes, we could release to an entirely new market."

"With my support," Bishop saw the moment Beneiza wanted unfold, "I own a 'vid' producer and distributor, Checkmate Studios. You need a film that is translated and properly edited for a Terran Audience… You need me."

"Ah, but of course. And I thought this was going to be more of a cultural exchange. So let us do business."

Bishop nodded, "Lets." He opened up his watch, recording the negotiations as he accessed data for his use, "The current percentage of Terrans, and by that I mean humans, watching film in large screen cinema is at 38%. About ten billion. The amount watching on small screens with instant access is nearly 78%. If I were to estimate the success of your film to ones of similar subject… I predict an average of 52% of the population to likely watch this film."

"That's a good number. We were only aiming for 30% with just a Turian audience. Though our population numbers are bigger, naturally."

"Naturally. But that was with regular data. If I were to get the Federation government to say this film is a must see for its… 'Pro-Terran' values, that number raises significantly. What you gain is not only viewership, but good media attention in our space, good will with our government, and a market ready to make a deal with you. You get all that… through me."

"You have such influence with your government?" asked Elkoss.

Bishop smiled, "If I had wanted to, if I wasn't distracted with personal matters, I would be a four term President right now, talking with the Council instead. But the Congress has always been mine."

"You make a good deal. Once the talks are over, when we open economic ties, we can work out the finer details. Logistics, planning… your cost for service."

"But why wait. I say, let's work it out now."

Elkoss chuckled, "You are ahead of yourself. We do not use the same currency. We not even have a means to exchange our currencies."

"I mean no offence, but you think within the box. Let us deal like the ancients, with hard currency."

"Ah, I see. I will hear you out, Mr. Bishop. What do you have? What do humans value? And do I value it?"

He checked his watch, searching quickly for a commodity of value for both sides. Conning him with Terran Gold or Silver would only backfire in the long run. And he needed something he would value as well.

"Platinum." He rested his hand on the holo emitter at the center of the table, used by guests for a variety of reasons. His watch interfaced and opened up a rotating screen, with the value of a kilo of Platinum in Terran Dollars and Council Credits. "35,000 Dollars vs 40,000 Credits for every kilo. I put my rate at… 250,000 kilograms worth."

Elkoss leaned over, looking at the number, quickly doing the math. For distributing a movie to a population of thirty billion plus, a ten billion credit cost for distribution was fair. But Bishop's promises seemed enticing.

"Your deal is enticing. Yet you seem eager to rush me. Precaution is wise."

"Precaution is safe. But the gain is little. I am your best choice. Economically and politically. You make a friend of me, you make friends with the Federation. You make a friend of them, you make friends with the Council. In times like this, the Council wants a friend of the Terrans."

Elkoss sat there in his seat, staring at the screen, then at Bishop. He thought about his offer. The potential benefits can be worth any amount of money. The fact a human himself would be so bold as to come to him and claim it, was impressive onto its self.

"Sir… I accept your deal. The amount is fair, and well within my ability to produce for you immediately. Shall your people and mine meet after this is all over?"

"You have Terra's best." He snapped his fingers, noticing it worked to call the waiter, "Let us celebrate with a Terran toast. Waiter, your finest, and strongest, drink!"

* * *

 **Part 6:**

 **Diplomats and VIPs - Presidium Restaurant** **  
July 1, 2167** **16:00:00 UTC**

Outside, Nihlus saw as a Council shuttle arrived and landed on the lot. Its door opened. Immediately, the Terran Secret Agents from the diplomatic convoy got off and rushed to secure the area. One walked over to Nihlus to confirm he was the Spectre. As they discussed planning, Ambassador Miri'Ghirn and Anita Goyle got off, walking towards the restaurant.

"I always wanted to eat here. They never let a suit rat like me in."

Goyle grinned, "Oh they will now. Don't you worry."

Nihlus walked over and greeted them.

"Ambassadors. I am Spectre agent Kryik. A pleasure to meet you. Mr. Bishop is inside."

Goyle took a look at the Turian. For a moment, he looked no different than the rest. But then something caught her eye. She couldn't tell why, but something about the man interested her.

"Spectre Kryik. Good day to you."

The Terran agents rushed to open the door. The Ambassadors walked over, Nihlus in tow, who was still looking for something. That something, the bottle of wine, arrived as a C-Sec shuttle arrived overhead and dropped it from above him. As they were about to enter the private entrance, the hostess ran up and blocked the way.

"In no way am I letting another one of you 'Terrans', let alone another Quarian, into this restaurant!"

Nihlus took point and walked in front of her, "By order of the Council, you will accommodate our guest. Understood?"

She grumbled. She didn't like the human for destroying her race's ship with seemly no consequence to them. She just didn't like the Quarian.

Goyle jokingly responded, "Otherwise, my guards here will charge in, wreck your restaurant, and set it on fire. The last one is just for flare."

Her mandibles opened up wide, she was grinding her mandibles with utter rage. But she relented.

"Please… follow me this way."

They entered and walked through. The other ambassadors watched as the actual Terran diplomats walked by. Nihlus nodded to them, confirming what they were seeing. They finally arrived at the table. Bishop turned and noticed, standing up as he smiled and greeted them.

"Ambassadors! Welcome! We were about to celebrate!"

"Made a deal, I see?" asked Goyle.

He chuckled and then smirked, tired after the whole day. "What else? I presume the talks are going well? Being alive is a good sign."

"The progress is slow, but clear and forward moving," replied Miri.

Bishop then turned to Miri, "Ambassador Ghirn. How good it is to see you all. Please, join us."

"If you insist, Mr. Bishop."

"I do. Ms. Ronia, your race's ambassador to the Citadel."

Nellia took noticed of the former Admiral, "Admiral Ghirn!"

"Child… Interesting, were you not evacuated from the Citadel?"

"Oh, I was on Thessia for a movie shooting."

"Ah, yes. Nellia'Ronia Nar Woland. We were unable to bring home those in Asari space. But your fame as an actor had become well known on the fleet."

She blushed, "Thank you, uh, Ambassador."

"And she will be in her new home. Terra is your new homeworld," said Bishop with pride.

"So it's really true…"

As the waiter returned with a bottle of wine for the dextro and Volus, Nihlus handed the bottle to Bishop, who proceeded to pour into each glass for the levos. He asked Nihlus to join them, asking for another glass for him. As they gathered, he finished pouring, and made sure everyone had a drink. The waiter picked up Elkoss and held him up to the rest of the crowd.

"A toast. To peace and prosperity!"

They all clang their glasses and drank up. For the Quarians and Volus, it was through special induction ports. Bishop signaled for another pour as he poured for the others. He turned to Goyle and nodded. She nodded back in agreement. The plan was a go.

"And one more. To my nation's latest hero. Fleet Admiral Zaren Vali!"

Miri quickly objected, "Oh please, no. He wouldn't have like to..."

"What do you mean ambassador?" asked Nellia.

"He was injured in a barbaric terrorist attack," Replied Bishop, "But a quick recover we wish him. For fighting for our true home world, Terra!"

Noticing he ran out for his own glass, so he quickly grabbed one from a passing waiter, a green looking glass. They toasted once more, though only the Terrans shouted ' _To Admiral Vali!'_. Miri looked down at her drink. She started at the dextro wine, thicker than water, almost like blood. A friend once told her Zaren and her were close like that. She simply looked on. She wondered why they would still lie about it. But they weren't.

"Wow, this is strong!"

Nihlus looked over. He suddenly opened his eyes and mandibles wide when he recognized the drink.

"Spirits, you just drank Ryncol!"

"Uh… is that bad?"

"It's poisonous even to the only race that can drink it. Krogan!"

Bishop laughed as he finished the glass in defiance.

"Oh it's not that bad…" He leaned over to Patterson, speaking softly and calmly, "Alert the doctors on the _Voyage_. I'm going to need those organs, now!"

* * *

 _Terran Wikipedia_

 _ **United Terran Dollar**_

 _ **Code:** UTD_

 _ **Central Bank:** Terran Federal Reserve System_

 _ **Inflation:** 1.25% (March 2167)_

 ** _Subunit:_**

1/10 Dime

1/100 Cent

1/1000 Mill (Used in accounting and by almost all fueling stations)

 _ **Symbol:** $_

 _ **Nicknames:** Banks, Bills, Bucks, Clams, Flat Coins, History Books, Silver Bars, Silver Cloth, Silver pressed Latinium, Tommy and Friends. Yanks. Copper Marx (1_ _¢), Nickel pressed steel, Steel Carnegie (5¢), Petro Dime, Tenth Rockefeller_ _(10_ _), Silver Bishop (25_ _), Haft Morgen (50_ _¢), Full Caesar (100¢)_ _. George ($1), Winnie ($5), Smithy ($10), Angey ($20), Twins ($50), Tommy ($100)._

 _ **Coins:**_

 _Freq. Used: 5¢. 10¢. 25¢_

 _Rarely Used: 1¢. 50¢. $1_

 _ **Bank Notes:**_

 _Freq. Used: $1, $5, $20, $100_

 _Rarely Used: $10, $50_

 _ **Printer and Mint:**_

 _Bureau of Stamp Pressing (Parent Agency: Department of the Treasury)_

 _The United Terran Federation Silver Pressed Dollar (sign: $; code: UTD) is the official currency in the Federation, its territories and controlled areas. It is a fiat based currency and is issued physically as a Federal Reserve Note. It is used as the single currency on Earth, in all colony worlds and areas outside of Earth. As stated by Article 8, Section 1 of the United Terran Constitution, Congress has the ability to 'issue money in what form it viewed appropriate for the times'._

 _Formalization of the currency was in 2127 to unify the economy of the Federation's colonies. Until this point, each colony used the currency of their Earth Nation-state sponsor. Unofficially, the Star Alliance Dollar, the Great Union Euro, and the British Imperial Pound were used as a medium currency outside of Earth. The Terran Dollar was formed to merge the currencies into one unifying currency. In 2133, Terran Federal Reserve was formed to manage the currency, dissolving the assets of the old nations._

 _The Terran currency's value is based off the value of its buying power to key core products. When originally formed, these were measured to the value of precious metals and other valuable products during the 2130s. When extra-solar mining drove gold and silver prices to all-time lows, and products like farming produce increased, the value of the dollar nearly collapsed in the 2140s. It was stabilized by taking a fundamental perspective change in what was deemed valuable. This rendered gold and silver no longer a precious metal as those far rarer elements like copper and platinum took their place. Other key products like food grain was put onto a fix price exchange to the dollar, ending its dominating effect on value._

 _In 2145, a surplus of relatively worthless silver, still culturally valuable, were stamped into a thin fiber that was weaved into each paper dollar bill. Along the random parts of the fiber weaving of each bill, and inside each steel stamped coin was a varying amount of silver. From the $1 to $100 bill, each bill had a combination of thick Eden plant fiber and thin silver fiber protected with a microscopic tungsten coating. Though unofficial, official documents have named the currency as the Silver Pressed Dollar for the practice. The amount of silver in each bill varies per year, but has little bearing on the value of each individual bill or the currency as a whole. The unique and precise use of putting bendable, fiber weaved metal into the cloth bill that equates makes counterfeit virtually impossible. Most shops have cheap scanners to tell if a bill has the correct silver-tungsten compound per corresponding year and is pressed on correctly through nanoscopic string weaving._

 _Each bill and coin is printed with the face of an important figure in Terran history on the front, and a location or symbol of the person's contribution in the back. On the front of each of is its numerical value and the words 'Federal Reserve Note'. On the back at the top of each one is Department of the Treasury motto, 'Gratia Dei, Humanam Salutem', which translates roughly into 'God's Grace, Man's Salvation'._

 _ **Denominations:**_

 _ **Coin**_

 _One Cent; Person: Karl Marx ; Role: An author of modern economic philosophy and the Founder of modern Terran Communism; Backside Design: The hammer and sickle over the impressed image of the United Earth._

 _Five Cent; Person: Andrew Carnegie ; Role: Founder of the modern Terran steel and infrastructure industry; Backside Design: The titanium-steel skeleton of the One American Republic building during construction in New York City._

 _Ten Cent; Person: John Rockefeller ; Role: Founder of modern Terran hydrocarbon and energy fuel supply industry; Backside Design: The museum oil fields of Texas, the modern Houston Fusion power plant in the background._

 _Twenty-five Cent; Person: Jeremiah Bishop ; Role: Founder of modern Terran mega corporations and economic theory; Backside Design: The eight rayed sun of the Philippines over the impressed image of the American Eagle._

 _Fifty Cent; Person: John Pierpont Morgan ; Role; Founder of modern Terran banking and financial system; Backside Design: The New York Stock Exchange in 1929 on the top half, the Noverian Stock Exchange in 2129 on the bottom half._

 _Hundred Cent: Person: Augustus Caesar ; Role: First Emperor of the Roman Empire; Backside Design: The Seal of the President of the United Terran Federation on the imperial banner of the Roman Empire._

 _ **Note**_

 _One Dollar; Person: George Washington ; Role: Main Founder of the United States of North America and its first President; Backside Design: The Washington Monument left side, and the signing of the US Constitution in Independence Hall right side._

 _Five Dollars; Person: Winston Churchill ; Role: British Prime Minister that led Great Britain's stand against the Nazi Third Reich; Backside Design: Center: RAF Spitfires Dogfighting over the Skyline of WWII Wartime London._

 _Ten Dollars; Person: Adam Smith ; Role: An author of modern economics, economic philosophy and the Founder of modern Terran Capitalism; Backside Design: Federal Vault on Elysium Planitia on Mars left side, the dollar sign over the symbol of the United Earth center, and the Federal Reserve Building in Switzerland on the right side._

 _Twenty Dollars; Person: Angela Merkal ; Role: The longest serving Chancellor of Germany. Founder and the first Chairman of the Greater European Union; Backside Design: The European flag transparent over the battle site of New Tannenberg during the British-European War._

 _Fifty Dollars; Person: Artyom Glukhovsky and Jian Xiang Lin ; Role: First Chairman of the Russo-American Star Alliance, and the First Prime Minister of the New Republic of China, respectively. Both Founders of the Terran Nationalist Party; Backside Design: The signing of the Alliance Charter in Juneau left side, and the Taiwanese and SEATO Flags over Beijing right side._

 _Hundred Dollars; Person: Thomas Keith Anderson ; Role: Last Secretary-General of the United Earth, Head Founders of the United Terran Federation and the First UTF President; Background Design: The signing of the Terran Constitution in Geneva left side, and the celebration of the first anniversary of Unification Day in New York right side._

 _Last Edited 10 May 2167 10:52 UTC_

* * *

 _Terran Wikipedia_

 _ **Jeremy Bishop**_

 _ **Born:** Jeremy Alexandria Bishop; 15 August 2110 (Age: 57), Oakland, California, USNA, Earth _

_**Residence:** Constant, Eden Prime, State of Exodus_

 _ **Nationality:** Terran, US American (Before Unification)_

 _ **Alma Mater:** _

_San Jose State University_

 _California Polytechnic State University_

 _ **Occupation:** _

_President and CEO of Quantum Core Industry_

 _CFO of Synthetic Insights_

 _CFO of Alexandria Atomics_

 _President of Checkmate Studios_

 _Chair of the Jade Lin Bishop Veteran Foundation_

 _ **Years Active** : 2130-2149; 2156-Present_

 _ **Net Worth:** Rank #2; UTD$ 2.450 trillion (December 2166)_

 ** _Board Member of:_**

 _Eldfell-Ashland Energy_

 _National Broadcasting Channel_

 _Hahne-Kedar_

 _ **Spouse(s):** Jade Lin Bishop ( **m.** 2134; **d.** 2149)_

 _ **Children:** Alexander Bishop_

 _ **Parents:** _

_Joseph Jordan Bishop_

 _Althea Alexandria Bishop_

 _ **Military Service:**_

 _ **Branch:** United Terran Navy_

 _ **Years of Service:** 2137-2139_

 _ **Rank:** Lieutenant_

 _Jeremy Bishop is a Terran business magnate, philanthropist, investor, media producer and former politician. Born to the Bishop Family, he was the sole heir of Bishop Enterprises, a major Filipino-American holding firm founded by his great grandfather, Jeremiah Bishop. In 2134, he was given a position in family rival Harper Finances and presided over the merger of Ashland Energy Corporation and Eldfell Construction to form Eldfell-Ashland Energy. His success turned him into a well-known protégé in the business community. In 2135, after the death of his father, he used his inherited stocks with his own to usurp his own mother and implant himself as its new President and CEO of Bishop Enterprises. In 2137, he merged its holding assets and bought out Ares Shipyard and Construction to form Quantum Core Industry. He was also the son-in-law of Terran President Huang Chen Lin._

 _Born in 2110 to Joseph and Althea Bishop, he lived his childhood in the upper hills of Oakland, California. He attended school in the Oakland Unified School District, his parents donating significant funding during his time to give their son, and everyone else attending a higher level of education. In 2128, he attended his family alma mater of San Jose State, but broke family tradition in pursuing a double major in mechanical engineering and film media than in business at the Jeremiah Bishop College of Business. He did so once more when pursuing a Master's degree at Cal Poly in law than business at George Bishop Graduate College of Business._

 _At his parent's insistence, he applied for a business job at Harper Finances, a partner company at the time. There, he worked with Amittai Ashland and his son Jonah Ashland, spear heading the famed merger to create Eldfell-Ashland Energy. He quickly used his new-found business fame to gain control of Harper Finances, broke the partnership between his parent's company Bishop Enterprises, and used the companies' assets to compete against them in numerous ventures, accumulating in the winning bid to fund and manage the colonization of Terra Nova in 2134._

 _During the 2130s and 2140s, he entered politics and rose to prominence as a party member in the Terra Firma Party. As the financial chief, he played an important role in the 2134 Election, giving the Firmist control of Congress. This in turn led to the passing of the Militarization Act, Evolutionary Progression Act, Colonial Loyalty Act, and the Home World Safeguard Amendment. Bishop then gained control as its leader, leading the Terra Firma into an era of near political dominance of the government, with the 2146-2152 Vetrol presidency essentially under his control._

 _In 2134, during an assassination attempt on key Firmist members in the Terra Firma London Conference, he met then National Guard Army Corporal Jade Lin. By official reports, both saved each other's lives during the attack. They later pursued a relationship and quickly married by year's end, placing both of them at odds with Huang Chen Lin, a head Founder, a Nationalist, and later second President of the Federation from 2140-2146. Having the leader of the Firmist as a son-in-law was often credited as the reason for his ineffectiveness in rallying Nationalist support in a primarily Firmist Congress, ensuring he would only be a one term president. Even today, neither party is on good terms with the other._

 _In the preceding years leading to the Great Revival, he was one of the first to warn of the increasing turmoil on Earth, at the time when the Terran Military was occupied in settling dangerous worlds, or suppressing uprisings in remote colonies. However, equally powerful and senior party members ignored his warnings. In 2146, he resigned from his position as party leader and moved his family to Eden Prime, ahead of the Blockade of Sol in 2147. In an interview with a close friend, despite his insistence, his wife returned to active duty as the leader of a Blue Beret battalion. For her sacrifice in the deployment of the Fallen Angels, she was awarded the Star of Terra and Bishop accepted her award from President Vetrol in 2150._

 _After the Revival, Bishop publicly denounced the Terra Firma party, blaming them for failing to prevent the Revival. Combined with a media backing, the disavowment by its prominent leader and financial backer broke the party, resulting in a scramble by the Nationalist and the smaller Unionist party to absorb powerful moderate Firmist that left the party. His leave marked the end of Firmist dominance in New York. Bishop then disappeared from the political and business world. In 2156, he returned to the head of his corporate positions._

 _In the 2164 Presidential election, he reemerged onto the political scene, rallying support for Jonathan Bowman's presidential run. The Firmist, which has yet to recover losing the Congress and the Presidency since 2152, denounced Bishop's participation and regards him as a traitor for leaving the party. Though some moderate Nationalist rallied to him, mainstream Nationalist still distrust the man that nearly destroyed them decades ago…_

 _Last Edited 1 May 2167 04:35 UTC_

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Thanks for reading,  
Keep on following,  
There's more coming up!

And always feel free to review.  
If you got feedback, comments, or concerns,  
let me know.

If you have any questions,  
Go ahead and review or PM me.  
I'd be glad to answer them.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\


	23. 22: And Carry a Big Stick

**Chapter Twenty Two: … And carry a Big Stick**

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Sorry for the delay,  
Its been a turbulent few weeks at school,  
Hell, its been a turbulent few weeks altogether!

Anyway, lets begin!

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

* * *

 **Part 1:**

 **The Terrans and the Council - Citadel Chamber  
End of First Day of Diplomatic Talks  
July 1, 2167 19:30:00 UTC**

"And what about our captured civilians?" asked Sparatus.

Shortly after the tense formal meeting between the Council and the Terrans, they changed venues to a smaller, though still quite spacious meeting room. Gathered around a central meeting table fitted with mass effect holo-emitters, they had begun the nit and grit detailing and negotiation of forming up a full peace treaty. For the majority of the treaty, it was a combination of Council VIs and Terran paralegal AIs that had done the majority of the writing and filling of the treaty. The Council was familiar with such treaties, details and all; the Terrans were able to modify the unimportant sections to their acceptable terms and advantage.

It was the key issues that had bogged them down. While most negotiations were done either with appointed diplomats from each side, third parties acting on both sides' behalf, or a Spectre with a gun to a leader's head, both sides had their top leaders at the table. Language translators of the highest grade could negate miscommunication. One side getting the wording they both agreed on to work in their favor couldn't be avoided. Especially between two large powers like these, it was crucial those who would approve such treaties would be the ones negotiating them as well.

Across the circular table, Goyle replied as she scrolled through her holo screen that was floating on the table, "We have been caring for them for the past couple of weeks. They are our guests… of sorts."

Next to her, Bowman finished listening to his earpiece of updated information and turned to them, "I have been informed by my staff that those who were taken from your worlds and the Citadel through the, let me see here… 'theft' of numerous ships, and those captured during the war with the Hegemony are onboard a flotilla of ships near the border. All we await is the approval and information on where to turn them over to you."

"The sooner, the better," remarked Sparatus, "And why do you insist you have no idea about these thefts?"

"Simply because we don't," he replied, lying with ease, "How so many of your people randomly appeared in our space is equally troubling. We have begun increasing security to prevent potential infiltration."

"If there weren't more important issues, I'd take you down now over this… Just get them back to us, alive and well!"

"But preferably once we resolve the major issues, like where and how," said Tevos in addition, "The Salarian world of Confog is in a system just a relay jump from one of your claimed clusters. Your relay 746 and 716 to our 790. Would the Salarians be willing to allow a Terran flotilla to drop them off and house them for processing?"

"The Dalatrass may not approve..." He looked at the relay map network, looking at their own data and ones provided by the Terrans for the part of the network along their borders that the Council didn't have. "But there is a chain of relays in general Council space heading directly to the Citadel. From your relay 279, 560, and 314."

"Relay 314 seems to also connect to Turian Space. I'll have to inform Cassiud to reinforce that area…"

"After this is all over," said Tevos. She turned to Bowman, "And so, President Bowman, are we at an agreement? They shall be brought here, directly home to the Citadel. An exact date can be handled by lower level diplomatic works."

Bowman nodded, "I think that works. Scott, have this noted in the treaty."

Each of their screens updated; the Councilors, the President and ambassadors reviewing it before continuing.

"I'm curious about the return of our people you liberated from bondage," said Nerval as he swiped different screens to a different part of the treaty.

Dov'tok stood up from his seat and walked to the table. The rest of them decided to rest on the sidelines, which included Miri, Udina, and several other Council diplomats. It was the fourth time they had reconvened, taking numerous 'breaks' after arguments flared out of control. The others were tired, but Miri was rather surprised by the progress they were making. So much as negotiating a cease-fire could be weeks' worth of talking. They were on the verge of a full treaty, complete with border layouts, an official formal means of communications, and even recognition of each other's sovereignty, all in a single day. She was having doubts on the prospects of the last one though.

Dov'tok approached the table, standing next to Goyle as a holoscreen appeared for him, "As we have mentioned before, many are still being properly processed before we can release them. And from our statistical data on those who have registered already, far more plan to apply for citizenship. We only have less than a hundred thousand planning on returning."

"Ah yes, of course. But how do we know the approximate millions are staying on their own accord?" asked Sparatus, crossing his arms.

Goyle gave a smug chuckle, "If you wish, you can talk to each one personally once this is all over. You'd be surprised by who would join us."

"And what do you mean by that?"

"Oh, nothing…" Goyle stopped. Teasing and angering the man was fun, but it wasn't the time and place for it.

Bowman returned to topic, "Those returning to Council Space will be able to do so at their will, at our expense. We leave it to you to determine where they go afterwards."

"Agreed," said Tevos, "Have this noted, with needed discussion on a later date."

Their VIs complied and amended the document. The update was pushed through, updating the document on each of their screens. On Bowman and Goyle's, they received an alert from their AIs on the _Voyage_ of another issue in the treaty, the wording once more a problem, the issue feeding into another topic altogether.

Goyle sighed as she clenched her forehead, "That's just great."

* * *

Finally, after a few more hours, they were done. In spite of the dispute, and the spark up of belligerent aggression, before them was a peace treaty. From the clash of First Contact, Hackett's raid, the broadcast of the Terrans across the galaxy, and every other incident, they all gathered around the table, staring at their screens.

"There we have it then," said Bowman. He sighed from exhaustion, but gave a grin, "we are done."

Udina continued scrolling his screen at different parts of the document, his arms crossed as he rubbed his chin, "Hmm, yes. _Peace for our time_."

His comment and double meaning was well valid, though only understood by the humans, and Dov'tok, who took the time to read up on human political history. The treaty as it stood addressed many of the important matters at hand. It addressed them by requiring additional treaties to be negotiated later on. Both sides knew the treaty was a hollow shell, a political move by both sides to quickly declare their sides as having achieved some monumental task.

The Council got their peace, allowing them to show the galaxy their prowess as the main diplomatic force. The Terrans got their treaty, giving Bowman and his administration the credibility at home to deal with the Council, without using the overwhelming power of their fleets. Both sides could write it off as a victory. It was just the first step. But the Council still had its plans of truly resolving the other issues still on the board. The Terrans were well aware of it.

"Then we are at an agreement. As the Councilors of our races, we have the power ratify the treaty. What say you, President Bowman?" asked Tevos.

Bowman responded, "By our laws, the Senate must vote to ratify the treaty. But they are deadlocked. So, by Article 10, Section 20 of our constitution, I have executive power to sign and ratify this treaty without Congressional approval, given it is an extraordinary situation that is to be determined by the Supreme Court at a later date."

Goyle chuckled, "Given you stacked the court like a deck of cards back in '65, we can rest assured we will get what we want."

Nerval spoke, "Then let us ratify this."

Each of the Councilors raised their hand and held it against the screen on the table. The computer read the unique identifiers on each of their hands, identifying each Councilor. Laid down on the table was the last page of the treaty document, where the blank spaces were located for each party to place their seal. With the Council's confirmation, the seal of the Salarian Union and Turian Hierarchy appeared on the document. The Asari, lacking a unified government to have or even commission a seal, had the religious emblem of the main Siari religion, the closest official unifying power on Thessia, since the Matriarchy had no official power. Its own use in document like this was still rare, since many treaties were done by the individual councils of the city-states on Thessia.

With the three seals, the seal of the Council, with its iconic five arms and center ring representing the Citadel, appeared in-between all three of them. They all looked to Bowman to ratify the treaty. Looking to his screen, he did so in the traditional Terran way, with his signature. After pressing his hand on it to confirm his identity, a holo pen appeared. He sighed his name, a large 'J' followed by smaller but more prominent 'B' and the rest of his name in cursive. After his signature appeared on the document, the Presidential seal appeared, above his signature, and below and in equal size to the Council seal.

Tevos turned to the Terrans and nodded, "Tomorrow, we shall meet in the afternoon and formally sign this treaty."

"And I look forward to it." He looked at his watch. It was late. But it was late for everyone. Bowman chose the date because it was when Council and Terran time coordinates aligned. Everyone was exhausted and tired, and it played into the Terran's plan. "I move we adjourn for today."

"Agreed. I believe it is quite late, in both our times."

Bowman held his hands out to them, "Then we are in agreement. Councilors, I wish you all a good night."

The doors opened, a small detachment of Secret Service agents waiting outside. Bowman nodded to them and walked way form the table, the others following suit. At the opposite end was another door, Spectres at the ready. Tevos and Sparatus took lead as they walked over to leave for the night as well, followed by the other diplomats. Nerval stayed for moment.

The rest of the Terrans began to leave, Dov'tok following from behind. As the last agent and Spectre stood at each opposite doorway, Nerval called out to Dov'tok. He stopped and turned back to the Salarian Councilor.

Nerval was aware of Dov'tok's history. Here once more, he was the only one among the Terrans truly familiar with Council politics. Nerval reasoned he must be aware, and had made clear to the others, of what the Council would try and do, of what they would ask.

"Councilor Nerval?" Dov'tok asked as he walked back.

"Ambassador Dov'tok. May I have a word with you?

"Of course."

Dov'tok nodded in agreement. They both sat down as the doors closed, leaving them in the room alone.

"I presume it must be good to have this position? If I may say, even given your history, you are a more worthy successor than your predecessor."

Dov'tok walked back to the table and leaned on it. He crossed his arms and chuckled as he thought about it, a small grin on his face.

"It's a step up. Ambassador to the Council itself. Most in the old Hegemony could only have dreamed of it."

"But you of all people are well aware of what is at stake with such a position," said Nerval. He took a seat with him, tired, his old body slowing him, but not his mind.

"I do…" He sighed, "If Sparatus was right on one thing, it's that I failed once to stop a war. I can't allow another one to start. We must have the peace."

"I concur. Do you know what your new leaders will do?"

Dov'tok turned his head to Nerval, "No… even then, you know I couldn't tell."

"Of course, of course. But I can presume you might know our next move?"

He chuckled, but one that lacked confidence behind it, "I just might. But with the humans, it doesn't mean any certainty."

Nerval stood up, "It's been the one thing any of us has been able to understand about them… I will be off now. I await to see what happens tomorrow."

"So do I."

Nerval walked to his guard as Dov'tok stood and walked over to his agent detail. From the dark room, Dov'tok walked out into the brightly lit hallway. It was clear, empty, the hallway as quiet as the night right before the raid. He began walking to the elevator to the ship. He rounded a corner, suddenly finding himself walking beside Bowman, staying back as the rest went on.

"Well?" asked Bowman, "It's about the invitation, isn't it?"

Dov'tok gave a short nod as they approached the elevator and walked in.

Bowman loosened his tie, "We are going to answer this question, tonight."

* * *

 **Part 2:**

 **Bowman, Dov'tok, and Udina - FSS _Sagan's Voyage_  
July 1, 2167 23:00:00 UTC**

"Let them be. They shall have their pitiful Council. We shall have the Federation!" said Udina with pride, sitting beside Goyle and Miri at the table.

Once more inside the meeting room onboard the _Sagan's Voyage_ , the President and his ambassadors discussed their next move. It was clear what was going to happen next. Though the Council themselves doubted they would agree, the question was all but sure to be asked. The tone for rest of the talks would to be set by the answer to the invitation.

 _Would the United Terran Federation, the Terrans, Humanity join the Council?_

Dov'tok spoke out, sitting a bit far to their left. Across from them and to Dov'tok's left was Bowman, his back to their viewport, "But they are a coalition of hundreds of races. The Federation is essentially just the humans. The Quarians and I are just small parts to it."

"Each race in _our_ Federation is here, represented, as equals," responded Goyle, "It is clear the Council is just those three on their podiums as well."

"And I have no intention of submitting to them as a power greater than us!" said Udina, "We do not bow down to those weaker than us. They should consider it fortunate that we do not force them to do the same right now!"

"But is there any chance we can be truly equal to them, and stand beside them?" asked Dov'tok.

"Hardly!"

Goyle turned to Miri, "Even I have my doubts on that. Some may be willing; others still will fight the idea."

Udina followed up, looking to Miri, then turning to Bowman, "We shall stand apart. Separate, but equal. Even they will come to respect that."

Dov'tok gave a sarcastic chuckle, "With the rest of the galaxy, you only invite conflict and war! Your history has shown that too many humans have said the same thing when simply dealing with other humans. The outcome has only been disastrous."

Udina slammed his hands on the table and turned to Dov'tok, "Do not peach our history, 'ambassador'!" He stared at the Batarian, while losing his composure. Miri was surprised for a moment by his sudden increase in antagonism, but Goyle crossed her arms and simply watched on. "Your own race has had its own share of problems. Oppression, dictatorship, the excuse that slavery was a 'cultural heritage'? You don't know Humanity!"

"From what I read, Ambassador Udina, I am finding it harder to believe we are two separate species. From your history and mine, I can spot more similarities than differences!"

"Do not compare us to you!"

"Enough!"

Bowman yelled out, slamming his fist down onto the table as he stood up. They both stopped and turned to him. He waited for their full attention before continuing.

"I will not tolerate fighting on my staff! Is that understood?"

Each of them gave a short, but clear nod to him. Bowman then exhaled, tired and exhausted. He leaned against the table, tired, as he looked up to them.

"I want your answer. Do we join?"

"Absolutely not, Mr. President!" said Udina, stern but with a lower tone than before. "To submit is death!"

"I see it as the same," said Miri, speaking up for the first time, "The Council has rarely proven itself as worthwhile allies. From my own experience and my race's with them, we gain too little, and we will lose too much."

Goyle nodded, giving Bowman a straight face. Bowman took note of it, truly the situation was serious if she looked at him with such an emotionless glimpse. She gave the same stoic stare when they were over Aratoht.

"We cannot give away our fleets. We cannot surrender our technology, AIs, the uniqueness and product of Terra… we can't join, Bowman. They will only take, and we will not receive in return."

"I see."

"But there are too many repercussions if we don't join," said Dov'tok, ready to rebuttal. Almost immediately, he felt he was about to debate a losing side. But he had no other choice. He stood up, "Absolutely no race has ever rejected joining the Citadel Council when offered membership. Not us, not even the Krogan!"

They all turned to him, Udina quickly got out of his chair, speaking out first.

"Then let us break the galactic tradition, let us break the status quo! The Federation shall stand on its own! And we shall stand against them if need be."

"And risk war? To stand alone _is_ to stand against them! We have presented ourselves as a threat; they will come after us unless we can show them we are not one."

Goyle spoke out now, "If we join, we would have to surrender our military, our technology, our way of life! We would be subjects to powers less advanced than us."

"And really, we don't even know the question," responded Miri, tense over Dov'tok's stance, but less antagonist than the humans, "What if they only ask Humanity to join? The Batarians might be welcomed back, but what of my people?"

"Exactly!" Udina yelled out and pointed at him, "The very notion of joining them is nothing less than a betray of my race, hers, and even your own!"

Dov'tok slammed both of his fists against the table, "I am no traitor! I am trying to save us, them, the entire damn galaxy, from war!"

Bowman turned to him and leaned on the table, "What do you mean 'save all of us from war'?"

"The balance…" He calmed down a bit and continued, "The galactic balance is out of order. Never has one race held so much power over the others. The Terran Federation's total and immediate destructive power is far beyond that of even the Rachni or Krogan!"

"Our advantage, the fact we tip the balance to our favor, is the main foundation of our position. We'd risk our own destruction if we didn't have it," said Goyle.

"And we risk the rest of the galaxy with it! If we stand aside, we will face war." He leaned back, resting against the wall as he rubbed his forehead, trying to think. With his arms crossed, he grabbed hold of a small trinket around his neck, regaining his composure, "It could be months, maybe a few years. But that peace treaty, being the farce it is, will not prevent war."

Bowman looked upon the Batarian, confused, "And you think surrendering is the better alternative?"

"What I want is to secure the peace." He stood up straight once more, letting go as he pressed his hands on the table and leaned forward to them, "I've lived through too much war. I saw the finest of my race die for petty gains, evil ideology, and revenge. I failed to stop war decades ago and I lost my son for it." He leaned over the table, looking at all of them, "I am ready to do what is needed for peace. And unlike the Hegemony, I presumed the Federation would be too."

"This is an outrage!" yelled Udina, "Bowman, this man is a damn appeaser!"

"And you are a warmonger! It's clear you learned nothing from your Revival! Billions dead, but clearly to you all, they were nothing but an empty statistic!"

A beep rang out, coming from the conference door. They all turned for a moment to the door. Bowman reached over to his console and opened the doors. They slid open, a man in a clean straight suit, a grey vest and black tie tight on his neck stood at the doorway, flanked by agents on either side.

* * *

 **Part 3:**

 **Bishop,** **Dov'tok, and Udina - FSS _Sagan's Voyage_** **  
July 1, 2167 23:15:00 UTC**

"I, uh, hope I am not intruding," he said with a calm, confused voice, as he stood in the doorway.

Goyle stood and turned to him, responding first, "Mr. Bishop. We are in a meeting. Do you need something?"

Bowman turned to her, "Actually, I called him." He held his hand out and pointed to the empty corner of the table, "Bishop, if you please."

He walked in and took his place; Bowman's left, the ambassadors' right, and across the short rectangular table from Dov'tok. As Bishop looked around the room, Udina was the first to speak.

"I presume you enjoyed your little field trip?" asked Udina with a bit of condemnation.

Bishop placed his hands in his pockets, arched back and chuckled, "Heh, like high school. Not much."

"I heard you killed a Krogan!" said Miri, shocked at his callous remark.

"And apparently, that makes you a badass to these people. Also sold the rights to distribution for some alien romance movie. Made a cool ten billion."

"Yes, Ambassador Ghirn and I even toasted to it," Goyle turned to Bowman. She was not up for the man's usual boasting, "Mr. President, why did you invite Bishop?"

Bowman gave his answer straight, "Simple. I wanted to hear his opinion."

"From Bishop?" Udina laughed, one of condescending amusement. "This man is a relic!"

"Relic?" Bishop gave his own chuckle, leaned forward over the table, staring back at Udina as he maintained his causal, open posture, "If I remember correctly, it was President Vetrol, Romanov, and Lee who came to me, begging for a solution to fix the economy, the budget, domestic affairs, and oh yah, how to deal with the fact we bombed our own home world into the ground!"

"If I recall, you didn't help them," said Goyle, confused by Bishops' examples.

"And you came this close to being the rookie congresswoman who impeached a president because of my lack of interference. You're welcome."

"Well, don't expect a 'thank you' from me."

Bowman returned the conversation to the matter at hand, "Anyway. Bishop, we have been discussing our next step for the talks with the Council."

"You got a peace treaty, didn't you?" asked Bishop, "Call it a day, go home, use your new foreign policy to win reelection, and deal with it then."

"We can't." Bowman gestured to the viewport, the Citadel in the distance, "Tomorrow, when we meet with the Council, in front of dozens of top diplomats, the Citadel Council will ask us, the Federation, the Terrans, or hell, just us humans, to join them as a member. How we answer this question would decide our foreign policy for decades, if not centuries to come."

Bishop looked at him. For a moment, the thought surprised him, but he allowed it to settle, permitting him to think analytically on the matter from what he had learned.

"Join… to be a member… like the Volus?"

Dov'tok dove in on his line of thought, "We may be fortunate. They could offer us Associated membership. We would immediately get an embassy on the Citadel, and be one of the few high ranking races in the galaxy."

Udina scoffed at the idea, "Being the immediate ground for those aliens to walk on is hardly 'high ranking'."

Dov'tok shrugged, "I must admit… they have never asked a race to join immediately as an associated member. Even the Turians spent a few decades as a regular member, and they were fighting as the last line of defense against the Krogan all the while."

"I don't see any benefit," said Goyle, "We cannot join. How can we be equal to them?"

"It seems most of you see us as already being above them," commented Miri.

Udina turned his head to her, locking his eyes to the glowing dots on her mask, "We are above them! They should be thanking what god they believe in that we did not 'liberate' them."

Bishop gave a light chuckle at the term, "Liberate?"

"I guess there's no disguising the fact we can conquer them outright. It's all the same anyway." He gave a look at the Batarian.

Bishop shook his head, "Conquer, hilarious." He broke off and walked over to the atom forger along the side of the wall. "Illusive Bourbon, neat." The machine closed its hatch and pumped carbon dioxide into the chamber, but nothing happened. Some sparks began to appear around the sides of the machine, but Bishop elbowed it as he stared at Udina, getting the machine to work as the atom forger activated.

"Reminds me of Faunz. He always had a knack at percussion maintenance," commented Miri as she thought about it.

The forger opened and Bishop got his drink. "It works for people also." He took a drink and turned to Bowman. "Mr. President. What exactly did you wanted to ask from me?"

Bowman leaned on the table and turned his head to Bishop, "Tell me. Should we join them?"

"Oh…" Bishop froze. He was lost, not sure how to answer the question. He moved his eyes and looked around the room. All of them were staring at him. Udina he probably expected the same answer as his. Neither may be Firmist anymore, but they still had some conviction for the old party. As far as he cared, that was the only role Bishop needed to play, to repeat his own words. Dov'tok stared across the table from him. He expected the same as well.

After a moment, he remembered the information he had brought with him. Bishop reached into his vest and pulled out a small tablet, "I'll answer that with another question. Would you like my report on the Council's economy?"

Bowman nodded, "Of course." He reached over the grabbed it, "You know, I thought you supported my election for an appointment as Secretary of the Treasury."

"And be moved down to a lower tax bracket?" He smiled and took a drink, "My taxes alone pay for the Federal government's interest. I get most of it back like that anyway."

Bowman waved the tablet over the small display console on the table, transferring the information and projecting it on holo-matrix at the center for all to see.

"How does the wealth of Terra compare to the Council?" asked Bowman, expecting some mixed answer that gave some advantage to the Terrans. Bowman wasn't an economic president, elected more for his service record than anything domestically useful.

Bishop crossed his arms, thinking of how to answer that as he took a deep breath and quickly exhaled.

"I compressed the data into some helpful charts. Shouldn't be too hard to read off."

As several data plots and bar graphs appeared, Udina pointed to several of them, confused by the data.

Goyle asked, "These numbers are… correct?"

"The margin of error is small actually. The aliens take good records of their economic activity. Even their shadier activities." Bishop chuckled, "If I gave this data to their tax collectors, they'd have a field day with it."

Dov'tok commented on the data, a bit disheartened, "I would have figured we'd be closer to the Salarians at least."

Udina pointed at the hologram, "This can't be right… According to this data, their GDP is over a hundred times larger than ours!"

"And you're surprised? Figures, Udina. You never were able to grasp the idea of a 'balanced' budget, let alone how an entire economy works. They've had a galactic scale economy for several millennia. We barely had a unified currency thirty years ago…" Bishop turned to Bowman, "It seems you were discussing the consequences of doing either. Tell me Mr. President. What were they?"

"Ambassador Dov'tok advocated for us to join. He argues that if we stand apart, the Council would be motivated in time to go to war with us," replied Bowman.

Udina spoke out, "The Council would be insane to even dare think the notion. We can destroy them!"

Bishop commented on that line of thought, "Why yes… yes we can." He looked down at his own table console and moved to turn off the holographic display. After a moment of everyone waiting for his response, he did so. He casually asked, "President Bowman, would you be like to destroy them?"

"God damn it, no!" yelled Bowman. He slammed his hands on the table and turned to him, along with everyone else, "We are here because I want peace, _they_ want peace, and because I do not wish them exterminated! I want co-existence!"

Bishop gave a slight nod, "I see… Then we must join the Council."

"Join the Council!? Are you insane Bishop?!" Udina kept slamming his fist on the table, before turning to Bowman, rage on his face, "Why did you even bother bringing him here? The man's deranged! We should not be bowing to them; we should be bringing them to their knees!"

"We can't, you idiot!" He turned on the holographic display again, then pointed at the charts and graphs and numbers in the hundreds of lines and calculations. "Look at that! Look! Do not confuse our ability to destroy as the same as conquer!"

"What the hell do you mean?" asked Goyle. She looked back at the data, "What does data on finances prove?"

"I presumed you and Bowman would have understood. You both fought in the war…" He shook his head and turned to Dov'tok, "Ambassador, do you want to know exactly what would happen if we don't join?"

Dov'tok nodded, "Please, elaborate."

"Yes, enlighten us," said Udina as he stared at him, in utter contempt for the man.

Bishop pointed to his economic data, "Right now, the Council, being as blind as the bat-thing I killed, views us from only one point of view. They see our fleets, and how powerful our military is. We conquered an alien power in a single week. It's the only thing on their minds: how to make sure we don't kill them. It is unfortunate that that is also the only point of view everyone back home sees as well; one war and we think we can take on the damn universe.

"Well, let's say we just go home. We open up to the rest of the galaxy, the natural flow of information and trade commences. Well, guess what, the Council, their diplomats and generals, are not idiots. Old and close minded, sure. But they'll adapt. They'll see this chart right here, they'll see how our military works, its support structure and tactics.

"Some of our weakness, we can offset, fix, adapt. But this? When they see they have an economy this large compared to us? Let's get god damn real here. We will be economically at their mercy! We may have built a military equal to those who have been here for thousands of years, our industry is great but it does not equate to wealth. Our economy is exactly what the hell you'd expect from a newly spacefaring race. You saw what they did to the Hegemony. When the Council decides we need to be put down, they'll just tighten that money noose around our necks. We may be powerful now, but we'll be turned into a paper tiger.

"And if we go to war instead of slowly die? Then we do what we should have done to begin with and destroy them entirely! There is no M.A.D., we can spread like a plague, a scourge too fast and too powerful to stop. If it isn't Terran, it would burn, us safe from the fire. Because if we don't, they'll learn how to fight us, where to hit us, and how to bleed us dry. The Council fought wars where most would have bled to death, but they emerged victorious.

"And in spite of what many think, the aftermath of the Great Revival still lurks over us. Our leaders and tacticians are still haunted by the war, and our young soldiers grew up with a defeatist mentality, one sure to come back once this little 'high' we got from the Skyllian Blitz is over. How can we conquer the galaxy? We nearly lost our own home world! And in the end, our economy can't support a total war. We've been in one this whole time, for too long. They just need to wait; we'll collapse from within."

"Unbelievable!" yelled Udina. He rushed over and stood toe to toe with Bishop, staring him down. But Bishop matched with a cold stoic look. "How can you say that about us? About the Federation!?"

"I must ask also," said Bowman. He himself was in disbelief at what the once patriotic man had said. Though unlike Bishop, Bowman knew more of what exactly were the fundamental reasons and causes that led to their situation, "What you've done to forge the Federation often rivals the Founders. To many, only Anderson himself has done more."

"And if Anderson were here, he would have said even less 'optimistic' words…" Bishop sat back down and took a drink from his glass, "I know everything that made us great. But for every advantage I helped to create, two weaknesses accompanied it. And in the end, it killed billions. And worse, it killed Jade…"

Bowman leaned his elbows on the table, resting his face in his palms in a mix of frustration and depression. Bishop continued to stare at his drink, slouching slowly into his chair.

Udina turned to Bowman, "Do you honestly believe the man?"

Bowman sat back up, "I feel inclined…"

"You're not inclined to do anything. Do what you must. You are the President," responded Bishop. He took a final chug and finished his glass.

Goyle turned to Dov'tok, "Ambassador, could we have a full sit down with the Council, actually work out and negotiate with them on the terms to our membership?"

"It's unprecedented," responded Dov'tok, "But so is any of this. I see no reason not to try. As Mr. Bishop said, we still have leverage at the moment."

Goyle nodded and turned to Bishop, "Anything else, Bishop?"

Bishop stared at his glass for a moment, lost in thought as he stared at the glare from the lighting. He finally snapped out and responded.

"What? Oh, well. Best case scenario, joining would certainly give us some trading rights, preventing them from immediately strangling us when the time comes. If we interlock our economies, not only would we see an economic boom that would eclipse the 30s, but we would be interconnected to the point that so much as a rumor of war would crash their economy."

Udina walked back to his position at the table, "And if this decision back fires anyway?"

"Well, I give it a decade or two before peace starts breaking down. If we use our wealth wisely, we can balance the budget, pay the debt, and fill our coffers with the wealth of the galaxy."

"And our military? Our fleets and armies?"

"By then, we'll have a new generation ready to bring the fight to anyone that threatens the Federation, the horrors of the Revival a distant memory like the World Wars… God, how quickly they will forget. And maybe then, we can take on the galaxy; imagine our flag flying over Palaven…" He gave a chuckle, one that died quickly. "Besides, even with that treaty, the buildup the past few decades has been a sloppy affair. Snap your fingers, and I can deliver you a million new ships, stronger, faster, better, and ready for truly anything." He stood up, "But Mr. President..."

"Yes?" asked Bowman.

Bishop shook his head, "God, I'm gonna piss off the stock holders for this… The bill in Congress, to launch a new series of build ups almost anew."

"What about it?" he asked, crossing his arms.

"Don't sign it. Whether you join or not, I leave up to you. But we cannot support a buildup, not even if you have the galaxy bearing down on us. Not yet…"

Another alarm rang out, followed by a message from one of his guards.

"Mr. President, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff on QEC line 4."

Goyle turned to Bowman, "What the hell does Williams want?"

"Doesn't matter," Bowman scratched his head, "I need to take this call."

Udina objected, "But that's it? Are we or are we not join theses aliens?"

"It seems the decision is obvious," remarked Bishop.

"Go to hell, you damn appeaser!"

"You can cram that piece of paper you call an Oxford law degree up your ass, Udina. If war is inevitable, you get 'peace for our time'. You buy time! Chamberlain didn't make peace because Hitler was a 'good chap'. He did it to buy the Allies time to get ready for war!"

"So we must be the ones to bear the burden?"

"Yes. Accept the entrance, and give the Federation and me time to rebuild for the modern galaxy. Because in the end, Europe didn't get ready, and I'm done living in 'interesting times'."

"This isn't what I was expecting…" Goyle looked to Bowman, "Are you sure?"

"I've made up my mind," said Bowman. He looked down at the table, seeing his reflection against the table. Thinking on his next actions, he paused take a breath. "Not that it means I'm sure myself."

Bishop stood up, "I'll take my leave. I've done enough damage today. And some of it can't be fixed by paying C-Sec fines."

"Please do, Bishop. You sold us out," said Udina, waving the man off.

He smiled, "Oh, really? I thought I already did it once with the Revival." He took a glance at his empty glass, then threw it at the wall, breaking the fragile atom forged glass, "Damn, I'm a good salesman."

As Udina continued to stare at him, Bishop took his leave and left. With another alert of the incoming call, Bowman nodded to his staff, signaling that the meeting was over. Udina was the most disgruntled over the revelation they would actually join. The only image in his mind was the political shit storm back home when the news arrived. Goyle was disgruntled as well, but was ready to support Bowman if he wanted it. She wasn't sure if Bowman had an angle he was approaching with, though the slaughter on Aratoht only said the opposite. She hoped that age would have expand his thought process. Miri was going through the motions at this point, different thoughts on her mind, distracting her. Dov'tok, in spite of it all, was still worried. He made the hassle of supporting such an un-favored proposition. It seemed he got his way, but for all the wrong reasons.

* * *

 **Bowman and Dov'tok - FSS _Sagan's Voyage_**

As they left, Bowman called Dov'tok, keeping him in as the rest left and the room was empty once more. He stood in place, waiting as the President leaned against the table, tired.

Bowman finally spoke. There was exhaustion in his voice, but it was clear to Dov'tok that his day was far from over.

"Do you honestly think this is a good idea?" he asked. He stared at the Batarian, still unsure of what to think. Even with all the therapy and counseling, the help from D'gona to face the past, he was still apprehensive being near one.

"I thought so. I want it to…" he sighed, "But no matter what any of you say, it seems war is inevitable. Today, or a decade from now. There is no winning."

"You wanted to bring stability?"

"I wanted peace…" Dov'tok reached into his coat and removed a small trinket from his neck and placed it on the table. He slid it over to Bowman, who looked down as it turned on.

He looked down at the small holographic image of a young Batarian sailor, dressed in the traditional uniform of the old Hegemony Navy.

"Who is this?"

"My… son."

Bowman looked on at the image the ambassador's child. From the documents and reports he had read up, Bowman knew he was no different than most who served and fought for the Hegemony. But looking up, he saw Dov'tok with his head down, at a loss. Looking back at the hologram, something hit Bowman. He felt a bit of remorse. The great war that claimed the lives of hundreds of thousands on both sides between the Batarians and Turians was of his own doing. Only by seeing a father of the dead, did Bowman see what he really did to others rather than the other way around.

Bowman nodded to him in acknowledgement, "My apologies… If I may ask…"

"He was young, patriotic. It's the same for most races. The young are eager to fight. But as Mr. Bishop would have put it, eager to die as well."

"The war did just that, didn't it?"

Dov'tok paused before answering, "All I want is peace… But some would rather fight, and some view peace as an illusion, war forever an inevitability."

"So joining the Council?"

"It seems like another path to war." He shook his head, "I failed once to stop a war. It feels like I will again."

"No, Dov'tok. _We_ won't fail… We will get the peace."

He gave a halfhearted, reluctant scoff, "I see no middle ground. Our pride is as great as the Council. It is the only place where we are equal at."

The thought crossed his mind. Bowman mentally rushed to seize on it for an idea.

"I think I do…" he whispered.

Dov'tok looked to him, "Excuse me, sir?"

"Let us rest, Ambassador Dov'tok." He nodded to him, grabbing the trinket and tossing it back to him. He gave the man a respecting nod, "We have a long day tomorrow."

"Of course. Good night, Mr. President."

He left the room. Now the President was alone, the stars and Citadel to his back. He turned around and stared at the sight.

" _They want to take the galaxy. They want peace… We will get both!"_

* * *

 **Part 4:**

 **Bowman and Section 14  
July 2, 2167 00:00:00 UTC**

Bowman sat behind his desk in his quarters, returning from the meeting. He sat there, in deep thought, as he looked through files on his computer while he yearned just to sleep. He then looked over to the corner, seeing a call on hold.

"This better be good," he whispered, taking a deep breath before he began.

He called for Scott to sound seal the room shut for privacy. As inner hull bulk plates polarized and sealed up, he transferred files onto a blank tablet and turn off his computer. A small blinking light at the corner of his desk, out of sight from him or anyone else, lit up. Meanwhile, he reached from his main comm device and answered. Before him, in front of four seats facing his desk, four holograms appeared. From left to right were Vice President Pierce, Fleet Admiral Woods, General Williams and Colonel Harper. They all stood up to salute the President.

"Mr. President! I hope the talks are going well!" said Williams with his signature smile.

He groaned, stood up to salute back and greet them, having learned to detest Williams' near insane show of optimism. "It's going well. I presume Bishop was here for some reason other than to get a free tour?"

"Well, the man is on our payroll… or well, we are to him. I always assure him, he made a wise investment."

"Yes, I see. Gentleman, may I ask why you need to alert me at this time of night?" asked Bowman.

"I'll start first, sir," said Woods, the rest of the men sitting back down. "Our AIs from Military Intelligence, the FIA, and Section 14 have finished data mining from across Council Space, with a detailed analysis of the Council's main files, sir."

Bowman nodded as he sat back in his seat, "What can we conclude?"

"My initial guess last month was right. No one in the galaxy is aware of the Reapers. Even though they have thousands of planets and archeological dig sites on Prothean worlds, they don't have any idea what destroyed the Prothean Empire. The Council themselves are just as clueless as everyone else."

"They really don't know…" Bowman slouched in his seat, "The Council is supposed to be the main galactic power. A unified galactic front. The Protheans are far more advanced and they got crushed by these things in only a few centuries…" He sat up and leaned over his desk, "If they come now, all of us, this damn 'galactic cycle' is as good as dead!"

" _When_ they come," said Pierce, correcting his colleague. "Bowman, we know when they were destroyed. We know when the empire before them was destroyed. Every fifty thousand years. For more than forty million years, these… abominations crushed every galactic civilization. We sifted through everything the ruins had to offer, but nothing they did seemed to work. We are certainly next… and it's almost been fifty thousand years."

Williams thought about that for a moment. What they didn't know was that he knew of _every_ attempt those before them tired. But them knowing wasn't important, he rationed. It still didn't work, "Actually Vice President Pierce, we found more details on the timeline," commented Williams.

Bowman turned his head, "Williams, what did Section 14 find out on the matter?"

Williams stood up as Woods sat down, "Sir, this is the reason why I called us here. We finished looking through the data banks from the old Hegemony. I thought it was more of a rumor... But on Torfan, we found this."

From his end, Williams activated his watch, showing a holo image in front of everyone, of a large wreck resembling a huge squid. Smaller parts of it were broken up, but it was clear that most of it was still intact, a sight still quite ominous.

Williams took a deep breath and sighed, "It's called the 'Leviathan of Dis' by the Hegemony brass."

Bowman stared at it, realizing what it actually was. He stood up, pointing at it, "But this… it's…"

"It's a Reaper. A dead Reaper." Williams crossed his arms as he flicked his wrist and cycled through different images, "Records show that they found it only months ago when they launched an incursion into Hades Gamma, somehow evading our sensors in the region."

"They had one…" said Woods, shaking his head in disbelief before realizing something. "That could mean that…"

"The Batarian government, mainly their highest officials, was indoctrinated by the ship. From what we found, the effects were… rather disturbing. We can't determine it now, but something is still resonating from it."

Harper commented on it, sitting in his seat with his arms and legs crossed, "It may be dead, but dead gods still dream."

Bowman responded, 'Williams, our high-ranking POWs. Do they seem out of the ordinary?"

Williams smiled and answered, "Aside from being xenophobic asses, we've cleared them. They're not indoctrinated. We hope so, anyway. Whoever was, was either killed when Roland nuked the capital… or met their end at the hands of the Butcher of Torfan."

"So what new information did the Section find from this thing?" asked Pierce, turning to his old colleague.

"We know it's a Reaper, a massive machine. Ship, creature? What we know for sure that it is a very old one. We've kept our study restricted. We used disposable drone machines to examine the wreck. Not willing to even risk our AIs. We know the end result, and that's more than enough to be safe."

"Older than thirty-seven million years?"

"Try a billion years, Mr. Pierce."

Bowman rubbed his forehead, aching from hearing the number as he leaned back and sat on his desk, "Good lord, they've been at this for a billion years? The first cells on Earth were just developing and these monsters were killing trillions across the galaxy."

"The news is not better, sir. We did the numbers, the comparing of galactic development from each different cycle we managed to find evidence even existed. I say we have until the end of the century before they arrive."

"Can we alone stop them?"

Williams laughed at the thought as he shook his head, "The Protheans, even with the same mass effect technology the Council had, were more technologically advanced and powerful than we are. Even with what we have, we could only last maybe… three times as long as the Citadel Council. But no more than that. If they come now, Humanity is dead by 2200."

Bowman pondered what to do next as the four men waited for his answer.

"Bishop said we have geared our military for pure destructive power."

"As he said a few weeks before, we didn't liberate the Batarians. We destroyed the Hegemony and miraculously didn't kill them in the process," replied Williams.

"He actually advocated that we join the Council… Said we had what it took to destroy the galaxy, but not conquer it."

Pierce gave a sarcastic chuckle and spoke, "When millions die, how is any of it different?"

"Killing billions is easy. Killing millions and subjugating the rest isn't," responded Williams, a more aggressive demeanor on his face, "We are all well aware of that."

"Unfortunately, we are."

Bowman interrupted, "But I will get the peace! It's been a long time coming, but we will need the rest of the galaxy if we are to fight this cosmic horror."

"But it begs the question," asked Williams, "Will we tell them of all this?"

Bowman crossed his arms and thought about it. But he was quick to remind himself of why it was still a secret to begin with.

"No, its too specific... It took even Anderson years to come around to such an idea. Even from the ruins, they're more of a legend than a warning left behind."

"But all legends are based on some fact. And when Anderson finally accepted it, his support was the key to founding the Federation."

"I don't trust them. If they're not ready for someone like us, they won't be for the Reapers."

Pierce added on, "This knowledge, it's like playing with fire. You either learn to fear and ignore it..."

"Or you use it for goals that would only harm everyone..." They all turned to Harper, "I wonder... if the Protheans once did the same? Force, conquer, and _control_ the entire galaxy to its will to fight a single enemy… Is our fate to do the same? To make the same error, perhaps?"

"If it is, then we're as good as dead anyway. But I won't play copycat. We do need the rest of the galaxy. We'll make them ready for the real threat to us all, but we need our own solution…" Bowman sat forward and looked down at his tablet, scrolling through information as he formulated his plan. "Williams, where do we stand on our contingencies from Operation: Maiden?"

"As Williams directed, each course of action we can take is still open to advance on," replied Harper instead, "Combined with the other actions caused between then and now, they have been rather effective in putting the Council off balance, even without our supervision."

Bowman nodded. Everything was set. As best as can be, but he would take it nonetheless. "Good. Williams, Harper. Prepare operation number 9."

Williams was suddenly taken by surprise by Bowman's order and choice. He asked, "Operation: Damsel? We've reviewed the plan and ready to execute. Are you sure you wish to do so?"

Bowman nodded, "'Damsel' is a go! Harper, what can we tell of the human supremacist rebels? Are they going to be a problem? We don't need any word of a rebellion coming to the Council. Their 'STG' and 'Spectres' will eventually get through our firewalls."

"No, sir. They seem to be disorganized. Civilian support for the membership of the other races is strong. I'm confident they should fade within the year."

"If not, they'll be the death of us," remarked Woods.

Pierce sat up, "Now Bowman, what is this 'Damsel' you just mentioned?"

He sighed, "I'm sorry Dewey, but I can't disclose that. For your own sake."

"For all of ours, I hope so, Jon. We all know how Section 14 can muck this up."

"So do I," Bowman stood up, "We discussed what need we to do. Section 14, as much as I don't like it, are you all set?"

"Yes, sir," said Williams. "We'll move out on your word."

Bowman nodded, "Good. Woods, are the fleets in position?"

Woods replied, "Yes, sir. Ready along the border. We expect the Council to move in to monitor and match in a few hours. It may come up in when you meet them tomorrow."

"Are we going to war?" asked Pierce.

"The opposite. And trust me, it won't be a problem." He looked back down on the tablet, "Have Venezuela bring the Forth Fleet into active status. Begin war game Gamma."

"A war game? It seems poorly timed," said Woods.

"I would disagree," replied Bowman.

"And is 'Gamma' necessary? She did write the rules of modern aircraft deployment after all."

"I want the real might of our Navy ready. The galaxy will be watching them in time. We'll show them something new. Pierce, how's the bill in Congress doing?"

Peirce replied, "The Senate passed the House's version this morning. It'll be making its way to your desk in an hour."

He quickly pondered, rolling his fingers on the desk, "Yes, that can work. Tell the Press Secretary that the President is still neutral on the matter."

"Are you?"

"Depends how tomorrow goes. Everyone. Thank you, and dismiss."

* * *

 **Part 5:**

 **The Terrans and the Council - Citadel Chamber  
Second Day of Diplomatic Talks  
July 2, 2167 15:05:00 UTC**

Once more, the Terrans and the Council met in the main chambers of the Citadel Tower. The Councilors were in their place on the high balcony. Bowman stood on the talking platform over the small garden, this time flanked by Goyle and Udina as Dov'tok and Miri waited behind them on the main platform.

"Mr. President, your seal of approval?"

The new day brought a new crowd. It was clear the invitation was coming. Around them in the chambers were diplomats and ambassadors from the dozens of 'high ranking' race's in the Council. On the balcony to their sides were the Council race ambassadors, Quentius, Irissa, and Valern. The other side had the ambassadors to several of the main associated races, Hanar, Elcor, Volus, and a few others. Beneath them on the lower level platform were numerous diplomats from the small races, gathered behind in a closed off area, staring up at the holo-emitters showing the event above.

"And with this stroke, we shall have peace!"

On the small podium in front of him, he sighed his signature on the screen. Above them and on either side do the Councilors, two holo-emitters showed his signature as it was written, observing the written language of the Terrans as it was. When he was done, his presidential seal appeared behind it, confirming his agreement.

The chamber was filled with applause at the historic moment. With the treaty, there was peace. The galaxy became a bit smaller. Besides the Council, the great civilization of the galaxy, there was now a new power, standing next to them. But everyone who really understood galactic politics knew what was to come. Would the Terrans stand together, or apart from the Council, was the thought on everyone's mind.

Tevos, standing center on her podium, signaled for quiet in the room. She quickly got it and she continued with the ceremonial part of the talks. The entire galaxy was essentially gathered in that room. Sparatus was apprehensive, the idea of the Terrans rejecting their offer would be helpful for him in the long run, but still have negative repercussions for them in the immediate. Nerval was eager to see what the Terrans would counter with. He couldn't pin what it might be, but simply rejecting didn't seem to be it.

"Today, we have peace between our people!" said Tevos to the chamber.

"Truly is it the dawn of a new era," responded Bowman, "The galaxy grows smaller, but grows more unknown."

"Yes it has…" Sparatus looked down on his console. He has been checking up on new reports from Admiral Parrus and Domitus, who were deployed with a portion of the Turian Fleet to their part of the established border. Terran ships had gathered in large clusters, scattered along the area of space in split clusters near their relay, or waiting in groups on the other side of the relay, broadcasting and warning anyone that the jump on the network would take them into Federation space. But Tevos made it clear he was not to bring it up. Bowman had given a satisfactory answer to the ships. Sparatus conceded, knowing the humans were not that dumb to bluntly gather ships on the border. If they wanted war, it was clear they didn't need to.

"History has been made," said Nerval, "To be witnessed by the leaders of the galaxy, and soon all the galaxy itself." Several cameras where aimed at them and the Terrans, capturing the moment so the main news medias could broadcast it a short while after it was over.

"Yes," replied Bowman, chuckling at the sight of all the diplomats, "Truly a great number you have brought here."

"But of course. It is a historic day." Tevos skimmed the chambers with her eyes before continuing, "And we wish to continue our work towards cooperation."

Goyle and Udina looked up with Bowman, not particularly impressed. But Bowman smiled with some amusement, "But of course. There is so much more work to be done. Now that we have secured this treaty, I propose we continue on with laying down the framework for our two peoples to work together."

Tevos nodded, almost glad that the Terran leader had suggested it, "But of course. And with that agenda in mind, the Citadel Council wishes to bring this proposal to you and the United Terran Federation."

The moment finally came, and a soft but heavy flow of whispering filled the chamber, everyone discussing it. On cue, the ambassadors and the President looked on with some form of surprise and curiosity on their faces. None of them really sold the act though, but Bowman was within legitimate amazement so they would still ask nonetheless.

"Please. On behalf of the Federation, I welcome to hear what you have to say and _offer_ to us."

The other two Councilors looked on at her as Tevos continued. It was historic for the Council, not only because it was going to be an invitation whose answer really would decide their first true foreign agenda for years to come, but that in a rare moment, the Councilors would personally be doing it themselves.

"For centuries, millennia, we the Citadel Council have been the one true unifying force in the galaxy," she said with pride.

Sparatus continued, "Yes, no matter what threat has emerged from the void of space, we have been the deciding factor in the continuing existence of galactic civilization."

"And from the relics of the ancient empires before us," said Nerval, "We have united the galaxy. Now more than ever, we wish nothing but peace and cooperation among all life in the galaxy."

Udina spoke under his breath, "Cooperation my ass..."

"Shut up, Udina!" whispered Goyle, still looking up to avoid attention.

"And now that we stand here, ready to further that common goal, it is… our custom to invite those new to the galaxy to aid in that cause," said Tevos.

"And let me assure you," said Bowman, loud for all the chamber to hear, "The United Terran People wish to aid in that cause, the cause of all life!"

A bit surprised by his enthusiasm, she continued, "Then let us work together. Not as friends, but as one."

"One?"

"President Jonathan Bowman. I, Councilor Tevos of the Citadel Council, and my fellow Councilors, wish to open the galaxy to your race and people. We wish to offer you an invitation to join the Citadel Council!"

There it was, the invitation. It was equally expected and surprising that the Council would personally offer it to them. Bowman knew what his answer was, but pursued to follow up on what the Council had in mind.

"This…" He pretended to be at a loss, "This is truly an amazement to us…" He looked back, looking at Miri and Dov'tok, before turning back to the Councilors. "Tell me. What does this invitation entail?"

Tevos, and the rest of the Council, was sure at this point that Bowman knew the offer had been coming. His act fooled everyone else in the room, but not her. She was more onto him when he openly asked for the details of their potential membership. She continued and responded regardless.

"The Citadel Council, recognizing the advancement of the Humans, wishes to offer you Associated membership to the Council!"

The chamber was suddenly filled with conversation, many discussing and arguing about the immediate upper level membership into the Citadel Council that was just bestowed onto Humanity.

"I can assure you, Mr. President, it…" Sparatus resisted the urge to hiss, "is a generous offer…"

"I do not argue that it is," said Bowman, "But what of those within the Federation that are not human?"

"You are a united people," replied Nerval, "This, we have no intention of ignoring. So, by our decision, not only do we offer to you, the humans, this status of membership," he turned to Dov'tok, "but we reaffirm Ambassador Dov'tok and the Batarian race's status on the Council." He then turned to Ambassador Miri'Ghirn, "And for you, Ambassador Ghirn, in the great spirit of goodwill and reconciliation, wish to offer the reinstatement of the Quarian race to their original status on the Council!"

Again, the chamber was filled with the noise of over a hundred diplomats, arguing and discussing the Council's decision. The Batarians' reaffirmation was almost expected, but to even offer membership back to the Quarians, it was a political gambit. Even Miri was surprised. Many were still resentful, but if any of them feared the Quarians now, it was for their potential renewal of status, and because of their benefactor, Humanity.

"And so, I ask you Mr. President. For I hope you would consider so. Will you join us?" asked Tevos at last.

Virtually everyone looked to Bowman, awaiting the response of the Terran leader. Even the ambassadors were a bit shocked, in spite of preparing for this. They also turned to Bowman, awaiting their leader's response to the invitation presented to them.

As they all watched, Bowman took a step closer to the podium and looked up at the Council. He had his answer ready. _Everyone has their opinion. Everyone has made their choice_. He was ready to break it all apart. Even his own.

"We… I… Humanity… are humbled by your offer. And I am sure when I speak for my colleagues, that we are all… amazed by this." He purposefully increased his breathing, adding to the appearance of surprise.

"We wish peace among our people, peace for our time," replied Tevos.

"I wish for so much more," said Bowman, speaking loud for all to hear, "What I want is peace, cooperation, and unity for all time, for whatever the galaxy may throw at us!"

"And so, your answer? Will you join us? To have us as your friend and ally?"

"Your protector," said Sparatus with little emotion.

"And your up lifters?" asked Nerval with anticipation.

Bowman looked down at his podium.

"My response… the galaxy needs a united front." He looked back up. "And so I say... Let us work together!"

"We welcome the news!"

"The United Terran Federation shall join…" Bowman suddenly lifted his hand and formed a fist, before hammering down on his podium. The bash was heard throughout the chamber, the mood of relief and celebration was dashed, as with one act Bowman changed the tone of the meeting. They all turned to him as he stared back up at them, "We shall join, on three non-negotiable conditions!"

"What!?" yelled Sparatus. He was ready to yell out at the sudden turn of events, but Bowman spoke, stopping him with his far stronger, authoritative tone. The Turian was silenced by the true soldier and leader Bowman was. He commanded the floor. He commanded the galaxy.

" _One! We shall not submit ourselves and be a signee to the Treaty of Farixen. If the galaxy is to be protected, it will be all of you who will be relying on the might of Terra! And so, we shall not surrender it under any circumstance._

" _Two! We shall, only on a case-by-case basis, give away our technology to the Council races. Just as well, we refuse to acknowledge any and all laws that disenfranchise our synthetic citizens. You claim to be up lifters, when you have failed to do so for so many, for yourselves as well. Only by our advancement can the advancement be for all of the galaxy!_

" _And lastly, three! And though we accept your invitation of our races into the Citadel Council, you have forgotten one factor. We are a united people! We are of one nation, one cause, one symbol of civilization! The Council has grown weak, but the Federation is strong. Let us be your protectors, your up lifters, your friend and ally, and finally, your uniters!_

" _For the good of all the galaxy. We, the United Terran People… demand nothing less than a seat on the Citadel Council itself!"_

The entire chamber erupted into argument. Diplomats and ambassadors were arguing all around over Bowman's proclamation. The Councilors were silenced by his words. Tevos was lost, staring idly at the man as she lost herself in the near horror of the moment. All her life, hundreds of years, none of it came close, even altogether, to prepare her for something like that. Sparatus was moved to a near cationic state. His rage had broken him, his mind in fury, but its link momentary cut from his body as he did the same as Tevos.

Nerval looked on as well, but the very moment he heard those words, his old body felt like collapsing into a pool of biomass. But he had the mental edge. He was none the less surprised of what Bowman did. As he looked on as well, typing on his podium to disable the news cameras, he thought to himself if this was being hinted at all the while. But from the look on the two other humans' face, it wasn't.

"My God, Mr. President… what the hell was that?" asked Goyle, in utter shock.

"We joined the Council, the Terran way!" He said with confidence. Inside, his heart sank as everyone else's had.

Udina stared at him, utterly bewildered, "Do you have any idea of the political shit storm you've caused! You essentially declared war on the Council! You threatened nothing less than Terran sovereignty!"

"I secured peace! I ensured our existence." He looked back up at them, "The ball's in the Council's court. And they will do as we want them to…"

"I'd almost rather be back in the Great Traverse than this…" sighed Goyle, the savvy woman as lost as everyone else.

Bowman chuckled, "So do I." He looked around, then rose his hand up. The gesture was universal, everyone quieting down upon the sight to hear what the Terran had to say.

Tevos tried to say something, but Bowman commanded the floor.

"This… I can see is an important decision to make. One that requires time. And so, on the dawn of peace between our people, I call today's meeting to a close." He turned around and spoke to the entire chamber, "We shall give the Citadel Council the time to decide on our… offer." Bowman turned again to the Councilors, "And I hope, Councilor Tevos, Councilor Sparatus, and Councilor Nerval, that you make the right decision. Let us work together! Let us have peace for all time!"

Before Tevos could regain herself, Bowman signaled his staff. The meeting was over. It was going to end in utter shock, but even the Terran ambassadors looked at Bowman with disbelief as he walked off the platform and towards the stairs.

Dov'tok walked besides Bowman as they head back to the elevator. The crowd looked on in awe, or disgust, as the Terrans left.

"What you did, sir…"

"We will have the peace. We will have it in the only real way possible."

Behind them, Miri turned to Goyle and Udina.

"What… what happens now?"

Udina was now simply disgruntled, "I don't know."

Goyle chuckled. She didn't know yet, but she could see now where her former captain was going, "Simple. Our next gambit begins…"

* * *

 **Part 6:**

 **Aethyta - Illium Bar  
End of the Second Day of Diplomatic Talks** **  
July 2, 2167 23:00:00 UTC**

" _For the good of all the galaxy. We, the United Terran People… demand nothing less than a seat on the Citadel Council itself!"_

The footage cutoff, returning to the news anchor.

"And that was the footage taken inside the Council Chambers only hours ago. The Citadel Council offered membership to the three races of the Terran Federation. Their leader, President Bowman, countered by demanding just as well a seat on the Council for the Unified People of the Federation. As of yet, no word from the Council."

Aethyta turned away from the screen and continued cleaning up glasses before her shift ended. She and a few of her patrons were at the bar, watching the screen on the wall next to them about the developing news from the Citadel.

"They say you can't anticipate insanity. But boy, that was like biotically kicking a Krogan in the quads." She shook her head in amusement as she gave an extra scrubbing to a glass.

The city was entering full swing into the night cycle on their side of the planet. The surface was cool, and the skyscrapers above were colder still, but the city had no rest. Business never ended, and at the bar, more flooded in.

"These Terrans are gonna be the death of us," remarked one Asari.

"Well," she looked around at the bar, as more people were flooding in, eager to drink their most likely collective worries away. Given how the stock market went, the Terrans were clearly making an impact. "They're good for business. That's for sure."

"Demand a seat? On the Council?!" A Turian next to them took a full shot of his drink, "They are mad!"

Aethyta groaned a bit as she took out a bottle and refilled him, "You may be right."

The Asari finished her drink and turned to her left. There sat a Quarian, drinking a cheap non-alcoholic drink with an induction port.

"You think they pay well for her contract?" she asked Aethyta.

She chuckled and rolled her eyes, "I heard they slaughtered Batarians that looked even slightly pampered by slave labor." She took out two bottles and did a bartender show as she made a mixed drink, throwing bottles in the air and mixing the falling liquid. "I wouldn't recommend it."

"They're bad for business as far as I'm concerned."

Suddenly, they heard a loud boom, the sound piercing their ears and rattling the glasses and bottles behind the bar. They heard screaming and gasping from the main balcony outside. They all left and rushed over, the sight striking them to their core.

"That's a private Elkoss Dreadnought!" Aethyta rushed to the edge to get a look as the private Illium defense ships slowly entered the atmosphere. "What the hell is it doing in the atmosh…?"

The ship then exploded, the shockwave rushing out in all directions. Everyone on the balcony was thrown back into the bar by the blast, drinks spilled all over and some were knocked out. Skycar traffic all around them was blown away, cars crashing into each other or the buildings besides them. Aethyta got back up and looked out as the ship slowly began to free fall, the mass effect core making it still as light as a one-kilometer feather. She looked directly up, noticing a smaller cruiser nosedive, its core failing, as it descended into the bowls of Nos Astro.

The sight of falling ships horrified her, she had no idea what was happening. As she looked around, she saw smaller ships and landing crafts enter the skyline. But they were not regular space crafts employed by the privately held defense fleet of the planet. Private Illium defense ships did muster up to the defense, but were shot down with surprising ease by what she could tell were inferior ships.

As a few split off and made a beeline for her and her bar, she energized her biotics. All on her mind now was surviving this attack on Illium!

* * *

 _ **Citadel News Network**_ _: Evening News;_ _21_ _th_ _Day of the Fifth Standard Month, 2907 GS; (Terran Date: July 2, 2167 UTC)_

 _ **Council-Federation Talks Falter; Terrans Demand Seat on Council!**_

 _Yesterday, the first diplomats from the Federation arrived to conduct proper First Contact and diplomatic talks with the Citadel Council. Arriving in the early morning, the convoy consisted of the leader of the United Terran Federation, President Jonathan Bowman. He was followed by the Human Ambassador, along with the ambassadors of the two races that joined the Federation, Batarian and Quarian. The final ambassador was the Terran Ambassador, who represented the Unified Terran People. The term 'Terran' is believed to be a political name for citizens of the human's Federation._

 _The first day, they met with the Councilors of the Citadel Council. In a press statement released early this morning, the first day of talks were considered to be a success. Rumors from inside reports indicate that a peace treaty was already agreed upon. In spite of petitions by private parties to address the destruction of the Destiny Ascension, the theft of ten high profile ships from the Presidium, and the hacking of Terran AIs into Council institutions across Council Space, the peace treaty singed failed to address these issues in any meaningful way._

 _On the second day of talks, the Council began by formally inviting the Terrans to be among the Council. Here, with the presence of the ambassadors of the Council races and the associated races, along with diplomats from many others, a peace treaty was formally sighed. Followed quickly was Councilor Tevos extending an invitation, offering the admittance of the humans, Batarians, and even the Quarians an associated status into the Council. This alone already sparked outrage from some races, though political analyzers already figured that the races of the Federation would receive such a status as membership._

 _In response, the Terran President Bowman initially accepted to join the Citadel Council. But he surprised all by immediately offering conditions for their entrance. He made numerous demands, including exclusion from Council AI laws and the Treaty of Firaxen. This came to a dramatic conclusion when he demanded that the Terrans be collectively given a seat on the Council itself, pointing out the supposed equal might of the Federation to the Council as a whole. Before the Council could respond, he ended talks for the day._

 _Across Council Space, political analyzers are in an uproar._

* * *

 _ **BBC News:**_ _Evening News: Date: July 2, 2167_

 _ **President Bowman threatens Terran Sovereignty; Congress Drafts War Resolution**_

 _On July 1, a Terran diplomatic convoy led by President Bowman left Arcturus for the alien capital known as the 'Citadel'. On the first day of talks, a peace settlement was reached. However, Rightwing Nationalist and Firmist have denounced the reached agreement, where the Terrans had agreed to secede territory to the Council and pay billions of dollars to them in minor forms of reparation. Some have argued though that the reparation bill to the actual damage caused in the last month, as 'petty change to both sides'._

 _Arguments from them however have increased from today's talks. Several hours ago, the alien galactic power, the Citadel Council, offered the three main races of the Federation membership into their galactic coalition. After a press-released statement on what the terms of membership were given, many were outraged over the benefits. Senator Carlson called it, 'Pathetic and insulting.' However, many are now enraged that President Bowman made the statement that the Federation would join, but had gone on to give a counter offer, refusing to let the Federation join unless the Terran People as a whole were offered full membership and a seat on the Council. It is believed such an act is utterly unthinkable to them._

 _Many politicians have stated that they are against the Federation joining under any circumstance. Amidst protest, several Firmist have now begun drafting a Declaration of War. Likewise, political analyzers believe that even Bowman doesn't think the Council will accept his terms. This comes as an insider in the military reports that Bowman has personally authorized the deployment of 30,000 ships to the border in the event of war and will in fact sign the New Militarization Bill after all._

 _Many do not see the Congress actually declaring war however._

* * *

 _ **Citadel News Network**_ _: Evening News;_ _21_ _th_ _Day of the Fifth Standard Month, 2907 GS; (Terran Date: July 2, 2167 UTC)_

 _ **Interview with an actual Terran!**_

SA: This is Serena A'sora, and I am on the Presidium. With me is none other than one of the Terrans themselves.

 _JB: Oh… the colors._

SA: Uh, excuse me, sir?"

RE: Pardon us, dear.

SA: Mr. Elkoss, this Terran seems… unusual.

RE: My new colleague here was very insistent on seeing if the chemicals produced by the Drell cause hallucinogenic side effects. The humans are very acceptable.

 _JB: I'm an Eden gas bag! Floating in the wind!_

 _MP: Damn it, Bishop. You're embarrassing us on galactic television!_

 _KW: Heh, it's not like the time he punched President Vetrol on Mars._

SA: Why is he carrying you?

RE: He thinks I'm a magical artifact the humans use in worship when they need advice.

SA: This _is_ the same Terran that is believed to have helped C-Sec officials stop a crime syndicate, personally bailed out one of your films, and singlehandedly killed a Krogan, right?

RE: He is a most competent man… When his mind is straight.

 _JB: I'm a deadly, exploding, Eden gas bag! Bloop! Bloop!_

SA: How interesting. May I ask about President Bowman's demand for a seat on the Council?

 _JB: Oh magic Volus 8-ball, should I care at all?"_

RE: Wait, what? Ahahahahah!

 _JB: Not the answer I wanted, damn it! Should I care for my President's bold move?  
_

RE: Ahahahah! No, just stop, please!

 _JB: Ok, ok… I think the chems are filtering out… Bloop! Oh magic Volus 8-ball, should I visit the Sapphire Alliance?_

RE: What? Ahahahahah! Yes, yes! Whatever. Just please stop shaking me.

 _JB: We're gonna get laid! Wells, Patterson, whores on me!_

 _MP: Finally! He's offering to buy us something._

SA: ... Well, that was interesting.

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

To better elaborate who this humanity is,  
and where this story is heading to,  
I edited the **Prologue** with additional information  
So you may better know who this Humanity is,  
and what they are up to!

If you got a good idea of it already,  
then hold on and stay tuned,  
The Terran's great gambit continues!

And as always,

Thank you all for reading,  
Be sure to keep on following,  
There's more coming up!

And always feel free to review.  
If you got feedback, comments, or concerns,  
let me know.  
I'm always aiming to improve!

If you have any questions,  
Go ahead and review or PM me.  
I'd be glad to answer them.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\


	24. 23: The Damsel in Distress

**Chapter Twenty-Three: The Damsel in Distress**

* * *

 **Part 1:**

 **The Council - Citadel Chamber  
Third Day of Diplomatic Talks  
July 3, 2167 02:00:00 UTC**

"This means war!"

The Councilors had gathered in their private meeting room, arguing all night. They were still in shock and panic over President Bowman's demands. Tevos was detached by the whole event; she had regained part of herself, but was still in disbelief at what the Terrans had done. Sparatus had completely regained his composure, mentally and physically fuming as he argued with Nerval. For the Salarian, he was able to maintain his calm demeanor. He had little support for the idea as well, but he was willing to keep the idea open.

But for Sparatus, it was as good as agreeing to it.

"How could this be war?" asked Nerval, growing impatient with the Turian.

"Do you not see what that insane man tried to do? He's trying to take over the Council! And he wants to do it by making us simply hand it over to him! Does he think we are idiots?"

"Should… should we even be surprised?" asked Tevos, softly and not fully in the conversation, "Many associated races ponder about a seat."

"It's absolutely different!" yelled Sparatus at her, "Already against our better judgment, we considered asking them to join us. We offered each of them membership. Associated Membership! Instead, they want a separate Council seat just for their own nationality. Image the future implications of being both a Councilor and an Associated Member. What if the 'humans', the Batarians, or Spirits forbid, those damn suit rats get their own separate seat. We could face a situation where we'd be outnumbered in our own Council by the Terrans!"

Nerval scoffed at the idea, "You say it as if it's that easy to get a seat."

"If we cave in, it would be. If we let them be, we would set a precedent we will not be able to stop in the future. The Citadel Council will fall if we let them in, let alone agree to all of their other conditions."

"But what if they don't join? Can we stand against them?" asked Nerval, leaning over the table towards him on the other side, "We don't have the strength to stop what they have!"

"Don't be blind. They are weak! Right now, they gather tens of thousands of ships along the border, but damn it, so can we. If they were strong, they wouldn't need to show power. They do what all real power houses do, they use it!"

"How damn typical of this generation of Turians! How might makes right! I assure you, Councilor. Your actions will have grave consequences for us all! Just moving your fleets to match the Terrans alone is a dangerous and aggressive move."

"And yet when they do it, it's correct?"

"You tell me. If the Hierarchy was the true power it claims, then wouldn't you or Primarch Cassiud have committed to attacking already?"

Sparatus slammed his fist on the table, "Don't you turn this against me!"

"Stop…" said Tevos with a soft voice, but was drowned out by the other two, "Stop…" She finally spoke out, initially soft, but growing louder and full as she finally bounced back into reality. "Stop!"

The others turned to her as she regained control of the meeting.

"We should not be fighting… we cannot afford to be fighting!"

"Damn it then, Tevos, what do we do? We can't accept their demands. We can't let them turn this whole debacle against us. We can't let them onto the Council!"

Nerval pointed out, "We may be expected to say no, but how? You may view their 'request' as a declaration of war. But if we do this wrong, it could be interpreted as our own declaration."

"We can fight them!"

"We will lose!"

"Gentleman. We cannot fight, we will not fight!"

As the argument was about to boil over, Spectre Nihlus barged into the room, rushing to the table. As a few more agents rushed into the room, the Councilors all turned to him as he ran to the table and opened up new intelligence reports.

Sparatus spoke first, "What the hell is the meaning of this?!"

"Councilor, sir. We've been experiencing a blackout with the Terminus Guard Fleet for the past two hours, our main comm system still damaged from the extranet crash. We are just now getting a distress signal from Matriarch Zamora of the fleet."

"That's impossible!"

"I wish so, sir. But the few all clear signals we've gotten have been decoded by STG as fakes."

"Fake 'all clears'?" Nerval opened his screen and began reading up on Salarian Intelligence reports, "That can't be right. Those are advanced encryption routines."

"Bah, the humans! Terrans, whatever. They are doing this! They…"

Before Sparatus finished, Tela Vasir rushed into the room, checked up on Nihlus as he routed the distress call to the Councilors' meeting room.

Tevos asked, "What is happening?"

"The Fleet has fallen, Illium in under siege!" She turned to Nihlus, "Don't you have it connected?"

"The damn signal was weak to begin with. It's a miracle the buoys were able to direct the call… here"

On the table, an image of the commander of the Council Teminis Fleet appeared, holding onto her command table as her ship was attacked. The hologram began to distort, the signal falling apart.

" _This is Zamora! We are… attack! Admiral Mihail… forward position has been destroyed! Raider ships are pouring… the Terminus Systems…_ "

Sparatus spoke out, "Raiders? Impossible!"

Vasir turned to him, "We still have no confirmation from Mihail's fleet. Zamora is in charge of a contingent stationed to guard the Tasale system."

"Goddess, if she's under siege, then they mostly likely are besieging Illium!" She turned to the Spectres, "Send word to the Attican Fleet. I want a full response to these raiders and slavers!"

"Wait, wait," Sparatus turned to her, "If we move those ships, we leave the entire border open to the Terrans!"

"So?"

He slammed his fist on the table, "We would be open to attack!" He changed the display to the galaxy map, showing the map of star clusters connect by relays on the Council and Federation side. "If we move our ships, they would have a clean shot towards the Citadel, and they would be within launching distance of an invasion of our home worlds!"

"And if we abandon Illium, that's nearly ten thousand light years closer the Terminus would be to us!" yelled Nerval. The Salarian was finally done with the far-fetched sounding, non-thinking, idea, "Hundreds of colonies in the center of Council Space would be border worlds to very well established lawlessness! Spectres, send the fleet in!"

"No! No, no, no! This…" Sparatus began to hyperventilate, not ready to concede. _The Terrans are the true threat. Not this. This…_ he then spoke, "This… this is a distraction… A diversion! The, the… The Terrans! They are doing this! They want us to move our fleets; open our defenses to save that pitiful, pretty, dressed up version of Omega. Those bastards think we are so concerned and conceded by wealth? We won't let them distract us from the real threat!"

"We will lose not only wealth, but our credibility as the protectors of the galaxy! If Illium falls, it proves the Terrans, it proves President Bowman, right!"

"And we fall for this trap, it will prove just how stupid he thinks we are! No more!"

"There is no reasoning with you. I will not waste my limited time doing so. I vote in favor of sending our fleet to Illium, now!"

"So do I," said Tevos, a concerned and equally frustrated look on her face, "We shall defend Illium."

"No, it's a trap…" he kept slamming his fist on the table in frustration, slouching over the table in exhaustion, "I know it's them… ah!"

"Give this up, Sparatus…"

"No!" He pushed himself off the table, standing tall once more, "I will take action myself. When the Matriarchs, Dalatrass, and Primarch hear from me, then the Council will be ready to defend against these damn pyjacks!"

Nerval slammed his paws on the hand. The very idea Sparatus threatened to do was unthinkable, "If you go over us, you will be undermining the Council!"

"No…" he waved a talon at him, "I'm saving it!"

He barged out the room, surprising his personal guard as he stormed down the hallway, going off to do and execute his own will. The rest of the Council looked to each other, despaired. The division was now ever growing, and they both knew it would come to a head.

"The man's insane," said Tevos.

"No… he's desperate. That's even more dangerous."

Nihlus turned to both of them, "Councilors?"

Tevos responded, "Send the fleet, Spectre. We are the Council, our vote is clear."

"The Asari 2nd Fleet is ready to move already. The rest are now readying to redeploy," responded Vasir.

Tevos nodded as she brought back up the manifest of fleets, "Spectre Vasir, accompany the second fleet to Illium. I want to know how simple raiders got past the might of over five thousand ships!"

"Yes ma'am!"

"And Spectre Nihlus," spoke Nerval to him.

"Yes, sir?"

"Accompany were Sparatus goes. I want Tevos and I to know his moves."

"But, sir…"

"Your loyalty is to the Council. To all of us."

"Yes, sir!"

They both left, heading to their assignments. Tevos sighed, her long day only getting worse. Nerval kept his silence, thinking about what was happening. Hearing the mention of the Terrans, a thought entered his mind, but for different reasons. It was an option he hoped not to use.

* * *

 **Part 2:**

 **Admiral Vali and Colonel Harper - Section 14 Station  
End of Second Day of Diplomatic Talks  
July 2, 2167 20:00:00 UTC**

Outside the void was the Voyage Cluster, a tight cluster of dozens of stars. Located along the farther end of the Attican Traverse and Federation Space, it was home to the last wave of colonization, the Federation expanding its reach to each star from the mass relay connecting it to the rest of the galaxy. Near the relay was outpost Dixie-58. Using the arbitrary Terran galactic coordination system, the hundreds of small outposts in the 'Beta' quadrant had the designation 'Dixie'. All of the few in the 'Alpha' quadrant were codenamed 'Yankee'. It's relay, Relay 705, was the gateway relay, part of the Terran Intra-Galactic Highway 210, or Grissom's Trail.

Aboard the station, Zaren stared into the screen of a row of consoles in the main control room, reading the outputs of data of different locations across the galaxy. He sat down on a nearby office chair to read the updating data on one console and comprehend the data as other Section 14 agents worked on organizing the data in front of their screen consoles.

Behind him, the doors slid open and Harper walked into the control room.

"Good evening, Admiral. If you'll follow me please," he said, waving to him.

Zaren ran up and followed him as they entered another hallway, heading to Harper's office.

"Harper, maybe you can tell me why I was transferred here instead of being sent back to Utopia Fleet yards? I was planning on taking a ship over to the Citadel afterwards."

"I have already arranged for your transport. You will be boarding Admiral Hackett's _Sol de Mayo_ to the Citadel to rendezvous with the _Sagan's Voyage._ But now that you work for us, we want you to know about an operation we're commencing right now," responded Harper.

"Well… let's see what this damn black ops is trying to pull off now."

They arrived and walked into his office. Unlike Williams' office, Harper's was sparse, only a desk and a computer on it with the rest of the standard accommodations of a space station office. Some additional gear from Section 14 was set up to the side as well. It also had a scenic view showing the nebulas of the Voyager Cluster, thousands of light years away, spanning an even greater length than that. A few cargo and passenger ships passed by, the outpost main's function and front was being a hub into the rest of the cluster. Above at a ceiling corner, a small camera overlooked the office as they entered.

They walked over to his desk where Harper sat down behind it as Zaren sat in the guest chair in front of it. Harper turned on his console, inputting access codes and looking through data. Beside them, a larger computer console activated, displaying lines of data for both of them to see.

"So Admiral," said Harper as he continued typing on his computer, creating some small talk, "why do you want to head over to the Citadel?"

"I was hoping to see Miri again… I don't want to leave her alone. And if you intend to sell my death and resurrection as a miraculous recovery, I want her to be the first to know."

Harper's eyes turned to him for a moment, before returning to his screen, "And she will. Admiral Junius will be accompanying you."

Zaren grumbled, "I can't believe I have to work with that man. Why is he going? Hoping to return as their damn hero?"

"From what I can tell, no. He'd rather stay in the shadows. All he has is a hollow legacy, the last thing he has left. For the Council's sake and our own, we'd rather keep him there."

"And you want the galaxy to know I'm alive?"

Harper smiled and stood up, walking over to the screen on his wall. "Good for us, not for them." As he opened a holo keyboard to interface with, he sighed, "But for some, it's best they stay in the shadows. A distant thought..."

As Zaren thought about what he meant, he looked back at the desk, noticing something out of place. He picked it up, it was a small metal portrait with a photo in it. On it, he recognized a much younger looking Harper posing with two younger humans. He looked back at the older one, a clear contrast of the two.

"You have kids?" asked Zaren as he placed it back down.

"Hard to believe, but I was a family man." He gave short chuckle, but stopped just as quickly, "Wife and kids, Charlie and Alan, their names were. I planned to leave the military about twelve years ago, take up my father's position as the head of the family company. Return to a simpler civilian life... But here I am. A divorced man working in the shadows to alter galactic political affairs for the Federation's best interest."

"The galaxy can be cruel…," said Zaren. He stood and walked over to the holo screen.

"We, Admiral Zaren. We can be cruel."

"I know…" he looked down and took a deep unfiltered breath before continuing, "All I can do now is apologize." He reached into his pocket and pulled something out. It was a purple scarf, with a twirling pattern of thin white lines like a breeze in the wind. He looked at it with remorse. "Everything else seems too late."

Harper sighed, "It all seems... If I may ask, do you still think of him?"

Zaren paused for a moment, but answered in the end. A part of him didn't want to, another wanted just a bit of the burden off of him.

"In my age, the mind plays tricks. Some days, I see a dream of his very beginning. Most though, I only see his last moments, a nightmare, a punishment simply not enough for me."

"The past haunts us all. As Bowman said, we look on towards the future."

"I see no future."

Harper nodded, "A future hoped is rarely the future actual. Now, tell me Zaren. What do you know of the pirates and raiders in the Terminus systems?" he brought up a galactic map on the holo screen as the room's lights dim.

"Ah, the raiders of the Terminus. If you're a young Quarian on Pilgrimage, they're a deadly threat while traveling. If you're an admiral with fifty thousand ships at your disposal, well… they're not worth one's time", he said as he looked to him, preparing to see what Harper was going to do next.

"But a constant threat to the Council, the land beyond their 'Hadrian's Wall'. Their border of civility and savages. Today, that wall falls. The barbarians shall have a Rome to sack!" A line is shown being connected from the Section 14 outpost in the Voyager Cluster to different places across Citadel Space, until it finally made its way to the outer edges of the Terminus, near the Vallhallan Threshold. The signal was encrypted, traveling on unused hyperspace frequencies, before proxying through Council buoys to its destination.

Harper looked back at the screen, "We've got a comm link."

They sat down and brought their chairs over to the screen, "So, who are we calling?"

"We're gathering every pirate and raider to amass for a full assault. Operation Damsel is a go."

Zaren scratched his head, having quickly switched to the human gesture of confusion now that he wasn't wearing his helmet, "Operation Damsel? We're gathering them up to attack them?"

"We've gathered them up, but for the opposite reason. We wired over five hundred billion credits from banks across the Council. I'm now finalizing our payment to them."

"The opposite reason?" asked Zaren. He pondered a moment what he meant, only to quickly realize, "Whom did we pay them to attack?"

"We commandeered them to launch a full assault on the Asari colony of Illium," said Harper as the signal cleared itself. He activated a filter to alter and hide his voice. On the screen, a voice scan of a Batarian appeared.

" _This is Captain Beruk_."

Harper spoke into the microphone in front of him, "It's me. Are your ships ready to move out?"

" _Yes, but first, there's the matter of our final payment. Organizing theses thieves wasn't cheap. Nor was prodding Council defenses._ "

Harper sat back and grinned, "Of course. I'm wiring the final amount right now."

Harper input a command code, wiring the stolen credits to the captain. The Council credit, digitalization for security, had become an easy currency to launder and transfer thanks to the complicated and aging banking system that managed it. The Batarian checked his omni-tool to confirm his payment.

"I believe we are at an agreement?" asked Harper as he leaned in his seat.

" _Yes. We'll move out now. But how are we to get past the Council Fleet guarding the relays along the border_?"

Harper sat up and began typing, Zaren looked over, "I'm sending you the instructions on how to disable the ships guarding the relays to Illium, along with Illium's private defense fleet. Use them and you'll have a clear path."

" _And the Council relief force_?"

Harper gave a laugh to play his part, though Zaren guessed he actually meant it, "What relief force? The Terrans have forced the entire Council Fleet along the border with the Attican Traverse. Now is the time to strike at their unguarded heart!"

The Batarian looked at his omni-tool again to confirm the codes. He looked on, amazed. In front of him were thousands of files of each ship, fleet count, fleet formation, and the immediate movement plans of the Council Terminus Fleet. Finally, as he checked each file, he saw the key to attacking the Council head on and winning. The raider captain froze for a moment. If what he was seeing was real, his 'client' was far more powerful and high than he thought.

" _This… this is amazing. How did you get their Prefix Override Codes? I doubt even the Shadow Broker has access to this level of information._ "

Zaren asked Harper on the side, "Prefix Override Code? This Section 14 was able to get their hands on that?!"

Harper muted his mic, "Getting those codes was harder than we thought. We can use these codes once. Once the Council realizes their codes were gone, I doubt we would be able to get them again. So, this better be worth it." Harper continued his message, finishing up, "You don't need to know who I am. Do as you're told and you'll be a very rich man. Are we clear?"

" _Yes. You made your point. We'll be moving out now._ "

The signal cut, the galaxy map reappearing on the screen.

Zaren looked at him, bewildered, "You're planning an attack on Illium?"

"Operation Damsel: We gather every raider and pirate in the Terminus to attack Illium, the main economic hub of galactic civilization short of the Citadel itself. With the ability to bring the Council's fleet to their knees, they'll be able to punch right through the Council Fleet and attack the planet, the galactic market will crash and the credit will go along with it. The Council will be in complete disarray…"

"Wait, why are we doing this? Aren't we trying to get a seat on the Council?"

"They won't let us join if they can see fit for them to deny us. But if we throw them off, they'll come straight to us for help and aid. And when we merge with them, we'll have them in our grasp. By the time they recover, we will have expanded by leaps and bounds, and they will be utterly dependent on us."

Harper changed the screen to the 12th Flotilla of the Fourth Fleet, waiting near a Transwarp Conduit near Intai'sei. A couple dozen aircraft carriers and several hundred escort light cruisers and heavy frigates.

Zaren stood up and looked on, "So, these ships?"

"When the attack commences, the Council will panic and ask us for aid. These ships will then deploy right above Illium and save them from the pirates."

Zaren stared at him, in disbelief at hearing this plan. "That's some scheme, Harper. Is Section 14 always doing things like this?"

Harper sat back, in thought as he rubbed his forehead, "Normally we keep our actions from the public eye. Admittedly, this plan is more elaborate than it should be. Many things could go wrong…" He paused to think about it, the camera far above him looking on, "But if we pull it off, the Council will beg us to join."

The map on screen lit up, indicating activity along the relays in the border between the Terminus and Council.

Harper looked at the screen shortly before sitting back in his seat, pulling two cigars from inside his vest, "Looks like they began their assault. Care for a smoke, Admiral?"

"No, thank you." Harper put back the one cigar and then lit up the other with an auto lighter from his watch. Zaren sat back, contempt, "Well then, we wait?"

"As we always have."

* * *

 **Part 3:**

 **Commander Toma - THV _Nanus's Stand_  
End of Second Day of Diplomatic Talks** **  
July 2, 2167 21:30:00 UTC**

"Commander, we're picking up contact coming in from Relay 175, connecting into the Terminus System," said an ensign to the Commander of the _Nanus' Stand_.

"Clarify, are we seeing an increase in traffic from the relay?" asked the Commander through his earpiece. As per Turian design doctrine, he was standing at the back of the ship's long CIC, where several holo monitors surrounded him.

"Unable to clarify, sir..." He paused to tune in to the main fleet comm, "We're receiving orders from Admiral Mihail's ship. We're being deployed to the relay right now."

"Confirm. Helmsman, take formation with the fleet and prepare for FTL."

Far away at the very front of the CIC, the helmsman replied, "Yes, sir. Outpost Helvetia, requesting clearance to depart."

" _This is Helvetia, you are clear to leave port. Happy hunting."_

The _Nanus' Stand_ left port from the outpost overlooking the relay in the Hourglass Nebula. She joined the main Council Fleet of nearly three thousand, mostly Turian, ships also stationed to guard the entrance to Ilium and Council Space. Most of the five thousand Council ships were gathered here. Here, the Terminus began. The rest under Matriarch Zamora was in the Tasale system. The _Stand_ took position near the Turian dreadnought _Trebia's Flash_ , which was leading the main fleet. As soon as the fleet was in clear space, they engaged their FTL drives. Their eezo cores lightening the ship's mass, allowing anti-proton thrust at FTL speeds.

They made way to the relay, dropping out of FTL. Immediately, they were attacked by the pirate and raider ships waiting on the other side of the relay. Waves of small attack and raiding crafts, most no bigger than a Council frigate and led by a command vessel the size of a light cruiser, rushed them. The fleet scattered to avoid incoming fire, breaking into two groups.

"Battle stations! GUARDIAN Systems away! Gunnery, do we have target coordinates?"

Down in the inner compartment on the cruiser, where the main mass accelerated cannons were, the gunnery officer responded.

"Yes, sir. Main guns ready to fire on your order."

"Open fire!"

The ship opened fire, a ten-kilogram slug raced out the bow and across the void at .95% the speed of light. It rammed a raider ship, exploding as the slug deformed and destroyed the ship from inside. The _Nanus' Stand_ pressed on the assault, joined by other ships as the three dreadnoughts at the fleet's end fired away at larger targets. But as she and a small task group charged in, her escort frigates stopped midway, drifting from inertia as the _Stand_ gained speed on the assault and left them behind.

A lieutenant in the communication terminal contacted the Commander.

"Sir, our escorts have stopped engaging. I can't raise them on communications."

The Commander responded as he scrolled through different tactical data being live fed to him, "Have they been hit?"

"No sir, scans indicate they are intact…. Sir, new reports are coming in. Nearly half the fleet has stopped engaging... The Admiral's ship is now adrift!"

"Raise communications; rally the remaining fleet with Commodore…"

The lighting across the CIC began flickering, drawing some to its attention. Just so, the Executive Officer ran up to him, "Commander, our systems. We're experiencing glitches across the board. Our input commands are not going through anymore."

"Can we isolate it?"

"Our techs are working on it".

The lights on the CIC shut off as console after console began to go blank, working its way from the helms at front to the command at back. Emergency lights engaged, a soft red glow barely lighting up the room.

The Commander, noticing his personal comm was off, yelled out, "Status report! What in the Spirits is going on?"

The ship rocked as the enemy force bombarded it, small raider ships taking potshots at the large cruiser. The Commander ran over to his sensor officer, trying to avoid tripping all the while as the raiders kept bombarding the ship.

One officer yelled out to report, "The same thing that had happened to the rest of the fleet. Do we know who's still fighting?"

"I lost sensors when the rest of the systems deactivated. But if I had to guess, most of the fleet is infected by the same problem," reported the sensor officer.

The Commander mader his way over, "Do we know what's causing it?"

"We were receiving a signal from the raider ships after we began our assault. Based on system shutdown, they might have disabled our ships remotely."

"They… hacked us? How?"

She kept trying to bring her input console online, "I don't know. It wasn't any hack routine I've seen before. They seem to have the codes to disable our ships. Everything, our computers, our barriers, they're all down."

"But…" the Commander was bewildered, "That's impossible! Only Palaven Command would have the codes to be able to disable our ships like that. Not a bunch of pirates."

The ship rocked violently this time, with serval consoles lighting up momentarily to only explode from the feedback. The Commander's comm came back to life for a moment, long enough to receive contact from the engineering department.

" _Commander, the last hit just tore through the rear engineering department. We're going to lose anti-proton containment…_ "

The signal cut as the comm went off again.

He grabbed on to a railing, breathing heavily as the ship shook, "Spirits, the ship is doomed." He went over to the middle of the poorly lit CIC, where everyone could see and hear him. He yelled at the top of his lungs, determined to keep control of his ship, "Prepare evacuation! Abandon ship! Send word across the ship to make it to the escape po—"

A slug tore right through the CIC, opening the room to the void of space. In an instant, the room was empty, it occupants killed instantly from the sudden ejection into space. Raider ships, far smaller than the _Nanus' Stand_ , ganged up to destroy the rest of the ship. From beyond, the rest of the Council Fleet lay in ruin; the raiders mopping up and destroying whatever ships remained. Smaller ones vanished in their explosion, while the large dreadnoughts drifted apart from their deathbeds, huge chunks of metal littering the battlefield.

As a detachment of ships attacked the outpost on the far side of the system, now defenseless as well, the pirates readjusted the relay, now pointing to the Tasale Relay, and Illium.

* * *

 **Part 4:**

 **Primarch Cassiud and Turian Hierarchy Staff Officers  
Palaven Military Command  
End of Third Day of Diplomatic Talks  
July 3, 2167 17:00:00 UTC**

"You must send in the fleets!"

"Don't Primarch. The real enemy is waiting for us to do just that!"

Deep within the Palatine mountain range outside Cipritine, was the several kilometers deep bunker of Palaven Command. Within the command center, Hierarchy Primarch Gaius Cassiud and his staff gathered at the table, their backs to the large screen console, showing fleet and army deployments across the galaxy.

At the table, arguments had flared, and the officers were gathered into their respective blocs. On the end across from Cassiud and the Traditionalists was one of the leading Colonial Primarchs across the Hierarchy, a war hero, Primarch Desolas Arterius, accompanied by a loyal following of his own generals, admirals, and fellow Primarchs. They represented the main radical group of the Traditionalists. Gathered on either side of the table from the main two blocs was the new generation of Reformists, representing the ideals from the last Primarch. They themselves were normally associated with either Cassiud or Desolas, but their unofficial leader, Admiral Fedorian, had made them draw away to be a truly third bloc. Brigadier General Corinthus was there on behalf of Fedorian, whom was still in Federation space.

"As Councilor Sparatus stated earlier, the Terrans are the current threat. If we move our ships, they will charge into our space the same way Kavos and the Hegemony did all those years ago," said Cassiud. Next to him was Councilor Sparatus. He had spent the whole day rallying the leaders of the galaxy to his side. Now he was home, securing the main key to his plan.

"Don't you get it?" asked Desolas, "They are a distraction! If those raiders gorged Illium, we would be in economic ruin!"

"And if we move our fleets, our entire nation would be in ruin!" yelled Sparatus.

"You madman! If our economy is shot, we wouldn't be able to _support_ a war with the Federation. A war with the Terrans, with what we have now, is one of attrition. If we lose Illium, it would be one we would lose!"

"Enough," yelled Cassiud. Immediately, he had grown tired and was hyperventilating. The man had not aged well in his over thirty-five years as Primarch. "My decision stands. We will defend the immediate proper of the Hierarchy. We can reclaim Illium at a later date, given the mood of the Asari, when we can properly shore up the border with stationary defenses."

The entire table burst into argument, generals, admirals, Primarchs, quarrelling with each other over the decision. Desolas looked at him, snarling in frustration.

"You're making a mistake!"

"It's the right decision!" said Sparatus. He turned to the current Primarch, set on pushing his agenda, "Don't let Arterius fool you. The Terrans are our biggest threat."

Cassiud turned to Desolas, "Don't you think they are?"

"Of course, but you're looking so far into the future that you are failing to see what's in front, now!"

"Illium is an insignificant planet," said Sparatus.

Desolas looked at Sparatus, bewildered, "It accounts for 10% of the entire galactic economy!"

"Please, it's a tax haven for the undeservedly wealthy. And come to think of it, Arterius," asked Sparatus, with condescending calm, "What if the Terrans are causing this attack?"

"Of course!" exclaimed General Iconis Radoria, the Head General of the Army, "It's the oldest trick in book. Launch a ruse attack to distract us from the real threat. They think we're so stupid!"

"After seeing this, I can see why!" responded General Pontius Partinax, the General of the 1st Turian Army, "And even if these Terrans are doing this, they could be purposefully using their fleet to distract us as those raiders destroy the galactic economy!"

"That's just insane," said Sparatus.

"And your idea isn't?" replied Desolas. "Mark my word, if we don't respond to this, we will all pay dearly for it. The entire Hierarchy will pay for your mistake!"

"Watch your words…" Cassiud pointed at him, leaning over the table at him, "Your old allies like Primarch Victorio and Councilor Fedorian aren't here to save you from insubordination!" He coughed, growing tired, but with Desolas and the younger group supporting him stood tall and watched on. Cassiud had the older bloc of flag officers; he knew very well of the growing division, but was unable to prevent it. He spoke under his quite real cough and scratched throat, "At least her son, Admiral Fedorian, isn't here either."

"If Fedorian was here, he would advocate sending the fleet right now!" argued Corinthus at the middle of the table, still able to overhear what he said.

"It was because of his false alarm; we were unable to stop them from raiding the Citadel!" Sparatus turned to him, "We won't make the same mistake again!"

Desolas decided to drive his disdain for the Primarch home, acting as though he was thinking aloud.

"It makes me wonder," he said with a snarl as his mandibles opened up wide, "What would Admiral Junius do in times like these?"

"Do not provoke his name!" yelled Cassiud, sweating in a sudden panic. "The man is now a spirit of the past. We are still of the living, and I intend to keep it that way."

"Figures…" he shook his head in disappointment. Desolas figured the Terrans were targeting the Hierarchy, ready to use the fact Junius was still alive. Desolas was considering informing the Hierarchy of the news, but he decided against it. It would be good and bad news for all of them, and he had no intention of inflicting harm on the government, or giving the battered old Primarch any news his friend was alive. "You survived. He didn't!"

Cassiud burst out in rage, lashing out at the table as he bashed it in frustration. As much as he wanted to, he knew he couldn't, politically or physically, strike the younger Primarch. The man was young, in terms of the greater scale of things, and growing ever more powerful.

" _Primarchs! We should not be arguing!"_

Both Cassiud and Desolas turned their heads to the side of the table. There, the newly appointed Head Officer from Research and Development, Colonel Adrien Victus, stood his ground between the two Primarchs.

"Primarchs. We must stand united. Division now will leave us open to conquest."

"Then stand by your Primarch!" Sparatus pointed his talon on the table in front of him, "We must defend the Hierarchy!"

Desolas slammed his fist on the table in turn, "We must defend galactic civilization!"

"Enough!" Everyone turned back to Cassiud, who had mustered through to regain his own convened meeting, "This discussion is over! Deploy the main fleet to the border."

Several admirals behind him saluted him in acknowledgment before rushing off to continue coordination of the fleet.

"You're doing the right thing, Primarch," said Sparatus, smiling and glad he got his way.

He groaned, "And of the small Asari contingent that is about to be en route to Illium?"

"Uh, well. Some Matriarchs saw it prudent to send the ships for their special interest."

Cassiud began to take his leave, his staff following, "Inform them… that the Marine detachment stationed with them are theirs."

"What! But, but, that's a whole division! That could be the difference between holding a colony…" Sparatus ran off, chasing Cassiud as he tried to persuade him to change his mind.

Desolas stood over the table, leaning on his arms as he held his head down and thought of what to do. He looked over, noticing as the young Colonel Victus and General Corinthus argued about the Primarch's decision, before taking their leave as well.

As they left, Desolas stopped them for a moment.

"It must be frustrating, dealing with such… irrationality." He said as he continued staring forward at the overview monitors.

"The memory of the Spirits! It damn well is!" responded Corinthus.

Victus spoke as well, "What Sparatus is doing is a disgrace to the position! If Fedorian was still alive, she wouldn't do such a thing, she would have retaken Illium and done a better job securing peace with these Terrans. And this… It makes me wonder what would Admiral Junius do if he were here."

Desolas simply nodded in acknowledgment, "Don't we all? But don't be focused on what was. Be focused on what you can do now." He stood up and turned to them, "What has R&D been up to in terms of reverse engineering?"

Victus sighed, "In all honesty, Primarch. It could be magic the Terrans are using. Not even Tantalus can grasp how their 'conventional' FTL drives, let alone that thing they used to pop out a hundred ships at the heart of the Citadel."

Desolas nodded in acknowledgment, "I see." He took out an OCD from his coat, "This may make sense of things."

"What is it?"

"My personal agents have secured ground in Terran space. This information can bridge the gap between them and us. Maybe not today, or even in the coming years. But unlike everyone else, we can have a ground to build on."

Victus took the OCD, still confused, "Then why did you not give this to Cassiud?!"

"And see it get wasted? See it get queued by the bureaucracy as wild, one off idea while the Hierarchy keeps grinding on the same old plans that the Terrans, by their insane nature, are already able to counter?! The only thing Cassiud and I have in common is that we're both trying to stop this enemy. But if he wants to crash and burn, so be it. I won't, though."

"So this information?" asked Corinthus.

"All technology is based off something else. It took the Protheans for us to rise above the Titans. We shall take the Terrans to claim the sky above. Always remember what to do, General. Take the initiative!"

"We know who the real threat is," responded Corinthus, "Colonel, let's move."

"Yes, sir! Thank you, Primarch."

As they left, Partinax spoke his thoughts aloud, focused on what the rising colonel said, "I really wonder what would Junius do. He should be Primarch, a man who took action, and innovation, not that damn lackey of his!"

Desolas sighed, "That's the damn tragedy of it. If our 'great war hero', was here today… it wouldn't be any different."

"So what now?"

Desolas turned to his staff, a calm, collected, and calculating look on his face.

"The Hierarchy refuses to get ready. So we will instead. The Terrans may not be the threat today. But when they are, we must be at the ready. Not like what Cassiud has done, but truly able to fight this new enemy!"

They looked on in confusion. The General finally asked, "How can we do that?"

"That…" he smiled, his mandibles closed, "You can leave to me…"

* * *

 **Part 5:**

 **Councilor Nerval and Councilor Tevos  
July 3, 2167 19:00:00 UTC**

"… _with new reports indicating that communication has been lost with the small task force of Asari ships sent to Illium. Outside analysis suggest they are now bogged down fighting raider forces with the remains of the Council Fleet near Illium._

" _Meanwhile, markets across Council space have fallen by double digits as they opened across the day. Elkoss Combine, headquartered on Illium, has dropped by 14%. Thus making it the sharpest drop in recent history since the Turian-Batarian War._

" _Though Elkoss declined to issue a statement on the matter, his new Terran business partner, Jeremy Bishop, has expressed unusual optimism in the matter. After revealing that the Terran's own markets have opened low, though only slightly and for entirely different reasons, he quoted a business saying from the human home world in events like this:_

"' _The best time to buy is when there's blood running in the streets!'"_

" _There is currently no official word from Terran diplomats on their reaction to the attack on Illium."_

With Sparatus forcing his will onto the galaxy, Tevos and Nerval stayed behind, trying to stop him. But the events of yesterday had put them in a bad position. The Terran's demands had placed them in the full attention of the galaxy. Sparatus took the political advantage by using it to persuade the races to move valuable military assets to the Attican border rather than the Terminus border. His position was strong, theirs wasn't.

They brought up the galaxy map, showing the positioning of the Citadel Fleet and the fleets of the individual races. Tevos looked at the map, trying to think of what they could do with what ships they have left. It had become rather clear; the races of the Council would rather sacrifice Illium, and be ready for war against the Terrans.

Nerval pointed to the map, "What of the Asari's Sixth Fleet?"

"The Matriarchs sided with Sparatus, those ships are stuck along the border with the Federation." She thought for a moment, staring at the map, "How about the Salarian Fourth Fleet?"

"Five hundred spy ships against ten thousand raiders? They won't stand a chance against them if they already took out our fleet along the Terminus." He groaned, "If only we had larger fleets, if only we had been ready for any of this."

"We could have never foreseen the Terrans. And even if we had the fleets, the dreadnoughts and forces, it would have all gone to border to stop the Terrans…" Tevos sighed and turned to him, "And with what happened yesterday, well. I'm starting to see where Sparatus is coming from."

They remained silent, trying to think of what they could do as two of the three most powerful people in the galaxy. Nerval could see the cracks appearing in the Council. Division was normal, but now it was clear the Council was divided. Tevos opened up a second holo screen, showing the stock market on the Citadel Financial Center. Hundreds of stock prices appeared with several charts, nearly all of them decreasing as every second passed. Sparatus wanted to match the Terran's might with their own. The rest of the Council was scrambling to save the unknowing, more meaningful economic lead over the Terrans.

Tevos sat down, frustrated. She buried her face in her hands. Nerval remained standing, thinking of what possible options he could pursue, each idea he came up with coming off as worse than what they were already in.

Tevos looked up to Nerval, "Any ideas?"

He thought for a moment, "I can't say I have any."

"I'm going to my personal quarters. I'll try to sway the Matriarchs again to release ships to launch a counter attack. Damn it, I hope Aethya is alright…"

She walked out of the room, leaving Nerval behind, alone in the meeting room. He stood there, staring aimlessly at the galaxy map. His frustration was matched by his exhaustion; he had seen mission specs of the impossible, devised on-the-fly plans in situations in operations gone horrible wrong, and done what not even the Spectres could accomplish as whole teams single handedly. He sat down, the stress ached his thirty-nine-year-old body. He needed a plan.

He kept thinking of what options were available, exhausting his mind. But at last, he came up with one more. He looked at the fleets along the border, hologram projecting a flat map of the galaxy in front of him. The Council Fleet was all across the border, nearly the combined might of the Asari and Salarian, with the rest guarding their home worlds. Among the ranks was the Turian Fleet, who were setting up defense lines behind them, with large concentrations in major relay points. He couldn't get any of those ships. He knew that it was a dead end.

Nerval turned his head over to the right. There lay the Terran Fleet, with a small dossier of the commander of each one, based on intelligence 'recovered' from spies in Terran space, which might as well be purposefully given to them by the Terrans themselves. The Fifth Fleet was at the center of the borderline, aimed at the Citadel. It was led by Steven Hackett, the same man who raided the Citadel a month ago. The Third was waiting just a relay jump into numerous points into Salarian Space, led by their veteran admiral, Anna Darya. Their First Fleet, led by senior admiral Maxwell Woods, was matching ship for ship with the Turians gathering at the Hierarchy border. Nerval wondered about their fleet organization; each of their 'fleets' was equivalent to armadas instead.

They didn't even need to be at the border. They could attack the entire span of the Council, bypassing any defensive line they set up. He knew they could go anywhere in the galaxy they chose, at a moment's notice.

… _At a moment's notice…_

He moved his hand over the table, opening up his personal archives. Quickly he began searching through STG files without thought, mostly through instinct as he formulated what he was actually going to do. He needed the Terrans. To save the Council, he needed the Federation to do it. Sparatus saw them as a threat, Tevos saw them as a break from the norm, but he saw them as an opportunity.

Nerval stopped, his screen displaying the profile stat of a mid-level STG agent that was on the Citadel. He had to think about what he was going to do. He was going to ask the Terrans to save Illium. He knew exactly what the cost was going to be. As he looked down at the table, Nerval tried to ration what he was going to do. He was going to sell out the Council.

But he rationed. Was he really doing so? The Council feared the Terrans. They feared everything they could do to them. But they feared everything they stood for. He knew the Council was stagnating, he knew the Council was growing old. The Federation was clearly young, and its youth meant it was in a state of vibrant change. Change he knew in his short tenure as a Councilor could not have been accomplished.

He hated to admit it, but the Terrans could be their answer. The former STG agent didn't believe in the mantra that secrets and covert operations helped the galaxy. Protecting the millennia status quo of the galaxy was only fueling a dangerous addiction. There was no change, their efforts, those he saw lost, the actions he committed, would only mean nothing in the end. He nodded, agreeing with his initial action. He saw the humans' arrival to the galactic scene and their ambitions as the perfect, if unexpected, opportunity. He could tell their overall presence would cause conflict in one form or another.

But them wanting to join the Council? He stood there, tall, rolling his fingers on the table as he thought. He could get the desired effect he wanted and avoid a possible war in the process. If they stood apart, it would only end in a war where the Terrans would destroy them outright, or one from which they would never recover. If they were of the same entity, the Terrans would force a near equally painful change. But under the same banner of the Council, there would be peace.

Nerval realized; he didn't care if the Terrans wanted a seat on the Council. They could help them and maybe play into his plans. Their ships could be the answer to the problem staring at him right now, and their very existence could be the answer he had seek for in his political life.

Just in case, he did another search, accessing the Salarian Research and Development. He needed a bargaining chip to give, as much as to scare if his plan was to work. In the Council's arrogance, they never did, or could strip anything useful from the Terran's first ship that had arrived at their door. But as he had seen and observed from them, it took inspiration, drive, and thinking outside of the box to do as they do. Nerval reasoned correctly, he would have to do so as well. Under his personal supervision, he took the first step to it.

He looked at the R&D report and STG agent's profile, transferred the data, before he disengaged the table hologram and walked away, raising his omni-tool to make a call. Nerval had always seen the Terrans as fascinating. Not just the humans, but those under their banner, new and different than the _de facto_ stereotypes they were once known for. They didn't offer change. They were change. They might serve his goals, a change the likes never before seen. What he didn't realize was that he was doing was giving them the help they expected all along.

* * *

 **Part 6:**

 **Councilor Nerval and Agent Solus  
July 3, 2167 20:00:00 UTC**

A red skycar zoomed across the airway, flying along traffic down in the depths of the Wards. Councilor Nerval, dressed in Salarian civilian clothing, looked out of his window, the bright lights of the skyline flashing in his eyes. It reminded him of his old missions when he infiltrated the deep insides of Omega; the red glow of the inside of a massive asteroid was replaced by the white and blue glow of the skylines of the Wards, but he knew they were not really any different.

" _You have arrived at the Silversun District,_ _Main Strip."_

As the auto-piloted car began to land at an empty spot, he turned to his personal guard. He didn't trust any of the Spectres for this mission, as his actions were highly questionable. He didn't trust any of the high-ranking STG agents either, since nearly all of them were involved with the Union's complicated political system. Nerval instead opted for a newer, idealistic agent; one he could make sure was more loyal to his own cause than the Council's. He was a newly appointed professor in biological and genetic studies at the University of Talat, as both a cover and a side job. Nerval's former assistant, now lieutenant, Kirrahe personally recommended the matured, but still young eighteen-year-old to him.

"I must thank you again for accompanying me, Professor Solus. My apologies for taking you away from your lecture here at the local university."

"Of course, Councilor. Anything for a fellow STG agent. Would also like to take this opportunity to observe the Terrans-humans," replied Mordin as they landed on the platform. He spoke rather fast, even for most Salarians. Nerval felt a bit slow himself at his age.

"I heard you have been scheduled to discuss the effects of genetic alteration for months. It is unfortunate that it was of the up most importance I keep this meeting secret. I can't trust the Spectres nor any senior STG agents to be involved," said Nerval.

"Unorthodox move. Going in personally to talk to them. Could be dangerous."

Nerval sighed, "It was better that I go personally. Someone else would have gotten it wrong. And there's no room for error in dealing with these people." Nerval remembered, "Have you reviewed that info I gave you?"

"Yes, I have! Such a revolution in spatial physics. Yet so simple and obvious, in hindsight. Almost no surprise the humans discovered it before the Mass Effect Drive. Attempting to refine theories without a better understanding of the universe, unfathomable."

"They are an unusual phenomenon."

"If Council had these equations, could open the doors to learning more on Terran engineering. Useful indeed."

Nerval countered Mordin's argument, "The Council would ignore it. Progress is driven by competition, not cooperation. We would learn more from competing than sharing. A mind pressed is a mind fresh. Ideas of more than one entity."

"And how did humans find the adversary to compel them to compete?" asked Mordin curiously.

"From what I can tell, they only needed themselves."

They got out of their rapid transit skycar, and with their natural skills as STG agents, old or young, they blended into the large crowd on the strip. There were more people than usual, people were enjoying the night and drinking. Some didn't care what was happening around the galaxy, others were just trying to drink their fear of the Terrans, or their portfolio being raided on Ilium, away.

They quickly got to their destination, walking into the lobby of Tiberius Towers.

"Rather odd they chose here as meeting place."

"I was forced to use backdoor channels to arrange this meeting," he sighed, "For all I know, their agents have been using this location as a place of operations before the diplomatic talks."

"To be hiding in such an open area? Truly fascinating. Must have well trained agents to hide from the Spectres or C-Sec."

"Hide from the Spectres? Sure. But from what I can tell, I wouldn't say 'well trained', not even by their standards."

They walked up to an Asari receptionist, who was busy looking through the extranet on her desk console for news of the attack on Illium.

"It's horrible," she said, as she looked through the report, holding a handkerchief as she cried, "I can't believe the Matriarchs and the Council aren't doing anything to stop these raiders."

"Council lost fleet protecting Illium to begin with. Must be in debate over how that happened," said Mordin.

"They could have sent more ships to fight back, while they spend that time figuring out how the raiders got through."

Nerval replied. He didn't worry if she recognized him, as he rarely made public statements. "I heard they were gearing up for the Terrans. With their leader's demands and their fleet at the border of the Traverse, they could attack, I heard."

She sighed, "It's like the whole galaxy is coming apart… Oh yes, I forgot. Is there something I can help you with?"

"Yes, we were invited by a Peta Asona and Matonis Macona. Which apartment is theirs?" asked Nerval, glad he was right in his guess.

She stopped crying and returned to a normal state, "Oh yes, they sent word they were expecting guests. They are on the sixth floor, farthest apartment. Do you know them?"

"We… are old friends of theirs," said Mordin.

Her mood changed. She was a bit irritated now, the thought of those residents irritating her, "Well, tell Peta, for the last time, we do not take deliveries for them on their behalf. And tell Macona if he hits on me again, I'm going to biotically throw him out of his own apartment window!"

"Yes, we'll… let him know."

She looked back at her screen, distressed again, "Goddess, what if they attack deeper into Asari space?"

They walked to the elevator, heading up to the sixth floor. They got off and walked down the hallway overlooking the strip, approaching the door and ringing the doorbell.

* * *

Inside the apartment, Peter rushed to the door, transforming his appearance to his Salarian Spectre disguise. Running as he changed his hologram, his now back-bending legs messed up his pace and he stumbled. Peter rushed back up and checked the screen to see it was Nerval and another Salarian. He opened the door and greeted them.

"Councilor Nerval, good to see you. And you brought a guest!" said Peter as he let them in.

Appearing as a Turian, Matt walked over from the kitchen as he brought a platter to the table in the foyer. "Councilor Nerval, please make yourself at home. Our main guest will be arriving shortly. We have cheese flies!"

Mordin looked at the two of them, confused, "Salarian, Turian. Strange, no, can't be Terran operatives... Nerval, I thought we were meeting the humans?"

Nerval nodded to him, "We are... Sort of. Peter, Matthew. Would you please be so kind as to remove your disguises?"

They walked over to them and altered their appearance, changing from head to toe into their standard human forms, with their Naval uniforms on. Nerval remained unimpressed. But the young agent was amazed at the sight of the synthetic life forms, looking on in awe as they transformed into their human forms.

"Amazing! Full scale holograms. These are the Terran's AIs?"

Nerval sighed and nodded, "Yes. Fully sentient AI. Peter, Matthew, may I present my academic colleague, Professor Mordin Solus. Professor, the Terran's _synthetic_ agents on the Citadel."

"Welcome to our little hide out," said Peter.

"Artificial intelligence… Fascinating! Tell me, Quantum or Swarm based?"

Peter scoffed at the question, "Uh, Quantum. Of course!"

"Quarians must have felt fortunate to make contact with a race in peace with their AI creation." Mordin walked over, examining their human appearances with quick and precise recording detail. "So you use hologram platforms rather than physical like the Geth?"

"Yes, and please, Professor. We are the true AIs here, not those robots in the Veil."

Mordin was momentarily confused, but quickly followed up with a question, "You don't think Geth are real artificial intelligence?"

Peter chuckled at the thought and the Salarian took in the sight of a laughing machine, "Swarm based intelligence is a myth: like those Giant Terra Novian Squids, Noverian Yetties, who won the battle of Dallas during the Revival, the War of the Worlds broadcast being real, or the faking of the moon landing."

Matt turned to him, "But all the history books said we did fake the moon landing…"

Peter punched him in the arm, "That's just propaganda created by the Americans during the Civil War to distract people from the idea of space travel so they focus on fighting the rebels and that crop blight. They never bothered to change it back after the Atomic Revolution."

"Weird you two have two different points of view on creator's own history."

"Historical facts are relative, like time." Peter nodded, "Now please, sit down and enjoy the hors d'oeuvres. President Bowman will be available personally in a short while."

They walked over and sat down in the foyer, the fireplace burning bright and yellow. The two Salarians wondered why there was something that looked like the frame of a shotgun burning in the fireplace. Matt gestured for them to try the platter of assorted cheese, mixed with special Tropican flies from Nasurn. Nerval and Mordin declined, the Councilor insisting on knowing when the President would arrive.

"In about a minute. Relax, are you in a hurry?" asked Peter as he ate some cheese.

Nerval responded, "Of course I am! Illium is under attack!"

"Fascinating, holograms can eat food," commented Mordin.

"Our special holo drones allow us to eat and drink, and we have programming that allows taste." He took another bite, "Hmm, protein rich!"

Nerval turned to Mordin, "Professor, perhaps another time? We need to meet the Terran leader.

Mordin commented on that, "I wasn't aware he was touring Citadel himself."

"He isn't," said Matt, "Don't worry; He'll be arriving in about… five seconds."

The AIs stood up, lining up as they turned towards the window and empty floor near the door. They remotely closed the blinds of the windows of their apartment and signaled the _Voyage_ the ready signal. The two Salarians looked to the empty space near the door and windows as well. Nerval and Mordin stood up to see for themselves what the AIs were looking at.

As they turned, a single yellow energy ribbon appeared, circling a fixed point in the air like an electron in the older science models of the atom. Quickly, thousands more appeared, forming a cylindrical energy barrier. The Salarians shielded their eyes, a bit more sensitive to the bright light. They got a better view as a dark form began to take shape in the energy field, becoming more distinctive as each ribbon began to fade away. When they were able to fully see again, they saw the Federation President standing there as the last of the energy ribbons disappeared. Bowman looked to them, quickly walking over to greet them.

"Councilor Nerval, it is good to meet you again! It was better we meet one-on-one than with all those diplomats." The AIs saluted him and he in turn saluted back, before he dismissed them. As their holograms disappeared and their drones hovered away, Bowman gestured for Nerval to ask the question on both their minds.

"President Bowman…" Nerval himself was speechless at what he just saw.

Mordin, on the other hand, had plenty to say as he quickly deduced what he saw, murmuring to himself as he did.

"He appeared out of nowhere! Covered by some sort of energy barrier… an illusion? Maybe, holo-emitters could be in this room… no, would have notice trap doors when entering apartment. Given technological edge, no. Can't be… a teleportation device?"

Bowman responded, "Correct, uhm…"

"Professor Solus, junior professor of University of Talat on our home world. Was invited to help Councilor Nerval oversee talk. The Councilor is well aged by our standards. Tell me, is your device working on hyper-dimensional signaling to transport matter? Is tech standard to your people?"

"Oh, your guess is as good as mine. These new transporters are still in prototype." He patted himself down, chuckling, "They tell me every last atom is there, but… I don't know."

"Transporter?" asked Mordin.

"Call it as you wish, but if you call it a 'teleporter' to our scientist, you won't be learning its secrets any time soon."

Nerval spoke, "I find it weird you would enter in such a manner."

"The technology is… well, was top secret. But I felt given the circumstances, there's no harm in showing off." He gestured over to the couches, "Now than, shall we?"

They walked back over and sat down, Nerval spoke first to quickly start off the private meeting. He had his own surprise up his sleeve, but the Terran President's entrance was a good testament to Humanity's preemptive nature.

"As you may have heard, our colony of Illium has recently been attacked by raider forces from the more lawless parts of the galaxy," he said calmly so wouldn't reveal the severity of the situation.

Bowman nodded, "Yes I have," He crossed his legs and held his hands together in his lap, "I find it weird the Council's response has been… lackluster." The raiders were equipped to be able to take out any Council ship they sent, but even he didn't expect this poor response. It still played into his plan.

"Moving your ships to the border has locked down our own fleets to match. And at the amount I have read, it is quite provocative."

Bowman smiled, keeping his answers simple and politically sensitive, "This is the first time I have had a drawn border that must be guarded. You understand, given where your fleets are." He stopped smiling, "Still, my sincerest apologies over this news. Is there anything we can do to help?"

"I will be clear to the point. We need a relief force to take back Illium. I want you to do just that," asked Nerval, seeing through Bowman, as Bowman intended.

Bowman leaned over, "Then you know what I want. I want that seat on the Citadel Council. I want every term I said, matched."

Nerval nodded in simple acknowledgement and continued, "May I ask how you came to this… proposal of yours?"

"Well… most of our focus was on the two options we had, join unconditionally, or not at all. _The holding of power should yield more power_ , that's what they would say. _The ability of force should dictate your every move_. I disagree. It's simple pragmatism. I took the third. We are both galactic superpowers. If we join the Council with the meniscal membership you offered, we would be essentially destroying ourselves. If we refuse, our nations will surely enter a cold war the likes of which has never before been seen. And we can all agree will boil over into a war no one will live to ever see again. So this is the best solution to ensure cooperation and more importantly, coexistence."

"You are well aware that is, in any situation, a lot to ask?"

"I know… Your proposal?"

"You need my support," said Nerval. He sat up and leaned forward, "Tevos is nearly catatonic from this entire experience, and Sparatus has locked himself into a political quagmire. If I were to support a vote in favor, Tevos will fold. If the Council rules in favor, Sparatus will have placed himself in a position where he cannot refuse. He's burnt too many bridges at home and abroad to do as he pleases now."

"Well then," Bowman chuckled, "This seems to be easier than I thought."

Nerval shook his head, "I am afraid you are mistaken. If you save Illium, you have my vote. But for being excluded from the Treaty of Firaxen, to safeguard your technology, to… dare I say it, do you have the support you need at home for entering the Council with these terms? That's another issue all together. You need my help to be allowed into the Council, by us and by your own people."

Bowman locked eyes with the large eyes of the Councilor, leaning over in his seat. His expression was mute, and so was Nerval's. Mordin observed in silence the two leaders of the galaxy, waiting and anticipating each other's move.

"So be it. What do you want?"

"One. I can levy the Council to exclude you from the Treaty of Firaxen. If I do that, you would create a massive precedence for the treaty. In turn, I want you to levy your support to fully abolish it."

"You want me to remove a treaty that would allow others to try and match my own fleet count?" asked Bowman, giving only a slight disclosure to his confusion. He thought for a moment. Nerval wanted exactly what he really wanted from the Council.

Mordin himself was a bit uneasy with that agreement and turned to Nerval, "Councilor, are you sure removing treaty is a good idea? Military buildup not an advisable option. Always leads to war. Krogan Rebellion good example of that."

"We are not like the Krogan. The Council and the Federation are by all means civil, I hope."

"So do I," said Bowman "Though I find the request odd."

"It is… simple pragmatism. There must be equilibrium. A balance of power."

"And the scales, ever even, no matter what goes on them."

"On that note. Two. Admittedly the Council actually can't force you to hand over your technology. Simply put, we don't have the real force to do so…"

"Nor are you ready for it," replied Bowman bluntly.

Nerval's answer was quick and flat as well, "That is an opinion. In nature, such is relative. But this isn't. Professor."

Mordin pulled out a small hand tablet and quickly typed on it before handing it over to the Councilor. Nerval then handed it to Bowman, who had already reached over for it. Bowman sat back down and looked at it. The information on it was short, but it was translated from the origin source, and the data looked familiar, if old to him. But being the son of a famed scientist, and someone who worked with the latest ships of the young Federation, he knew very well what he was seeing.

He spoke his thoughts aloud as he read the short document.

"Magnetic capacitors. Exotic coil flux. Direct energy plasma to electric charge converters... Hyperspace bubble and field equation... How did you get this?"

Nerval leaned forward, "We've been stagnating. Stuck in old ideas, in old thinking. I can admit that. I must admit that! But this is what happens when we're compelled to do anything. Whatever happens, this and more will come about. First to imitate, then to surpass."

"Our presence had already made some changes..."

"I assure you. That is an understatement."

"Well than... My congratulations!" Bowman looked up at him and gave a small smile, "You've discovered warp physics! High school level, just enough I'd say for a C+…" He was more impressed, but it was clear what Nerval was doing. Bowman was aware of the dangers if someone other than those he could work with quickly worked to get what the Terrans had. This was a reminder of that. "I think you've made your point…"

Nerval leaned back, "Good. And three… Remind me, when was the last time Humanity was still divided among smaller home world powers?"

"I was a young man when we united. I can presume you know, that was not a long time ago."

"And you are well aware of the cost to do so? The diplomatic work and sacrifice to bring a race together into one collective force?" asked Nerval.

"I am. And I lived long enough to see events that would make me doubt its worth."

"Then you know what you would expect being in the Citadel Council. When the dust settles, I can assure you, you cannot stand on your own fighting against the other Councilors. Not even when you are a Council member as well. You need an ally. You need to make this alliance be a politically worthwhile situation for your officials and people... You need me."

Nerval sat there, staring down Bowman. His own little gambit to turn his sell out of the Council to his favor. Bowman was now fully surprised by what the Salarian Councilor was doing. Bowman thought of only the immediate, and the far future. Nerval, in his own scheming, was thinking of the near future. There were more factors coming into play, and Bowman could only tell himself he should have seen it coming. There was no turning back.

"I see. So that's the deal then…"

"You save Illium. You allow the galaxy to do _exactly_ what would happen when it meets a new situation, change and adapt. In turn, I offer you the only real path to coexistence. I offer you a real future in the Council."

Bowman sat back deep in the hard cushion of the couch. He looked at the tablet, looking at this meager attempt to scare him, show him what he was to expect, and it was scaring him indeed. Nerval awaited his answer, Mordin watched on it utter fascination, almost still by the suspension, a rare sight for him, let alone a Salarian. Bowman knew where he wanted the galaxy to be. He knew not how to get there from this point on. But of course he knew, someone else would fill that role in the end.

"Councilor Nerval."

"Yes, President Bowman?"

"We… are at an agreement. You win."

"Oh no. As far as the galaxy will be concerned, you won."

"But of course, the next battle awaits?"

"When has it not?"

They all stood up. Bowman extended his hand to shake on the agreement, and Nerval responded in turn, guessing with little interest that it was a human custom for showing agreement on an issue as well. Bowman smiled and extended the same gesture to the Salarian scientist as well.

"So the peace, it begins?" asked Mordin as he shook the Terran's hand, satisfied by his observation of the private meeting.

"We begin the path to peace," replied Bowman.

Nerval added on, "A path most dangerous."

"I think, for sure, on that we can all agree," said Mordin.

"But for now. President Bowman, please send your ships immediately."

"A flotilla from the Terran Fourth Fleet is on their way," said Bowman.

"A flotilla, not a whole fleet?" asked Nerval equal parts curious and suspicious.

"What we did to the Batarians was blunt overkill. We win not by force, but by precision. Now I shall show you how we really fight."

Bowman walked back up to his initial drop off point, standing in wait in the middle of the empty carpeted floor. Before he signaled for beam up, he remembered something. He walked back down, pulling out a pad from inside his suit's jacket.

"My apologies, Professor Solus, over this… politically brutal maneuvering. Sometimes, we must work in the shadows to prevail in the light of civilization."

"There is no need to apologize. From what I have been informed of you, my impression was not wrong. I almost expected this."

Bowman chuckled, "Really?"

Mordin responded quickly, "When you expect the unexpected, then yes, I expected it."

Bowman smiled and shook his head, "Well, still. As a show that we are more of the enlightened people we wish to be. Here."

"Interesting, what it is?" asked Mordin as he reached out for the Terran data tablet.

"This is a downloaded copy of our Library of Congress. The entire collective knowledge of Humanity from the beginning of our civilization to now is on this pad, our history, literature, science, and art. Civilian edition of course," said Bowman as he handed him the pad.

"Unique gesture, sign of peace and goodwill. Exploring the historic variables. Will be quite the study."

"One can easily argue so."

"Is this a more accurate copy?" asked Nerval.

"The truth is out there. You just got to bother to look." He turned back to Mordin, "Uhm… I also heard you missed a lecture here on the Citadel. When this is all over, we welcome you to guest speak in the Federation."

"Interesting offer, chance to learn more of Terran society and teach them about Council knowledge. I would accept."

"That is good to know." Bowman walked back to his spot, signaling the _Voyage_ for a beam up. He spoke once more, "And of course, you'll be under proper guard. We wouldn't want an STG agent just wondering around now, would we?" He chuckled as the energy ribbons appeared, engulfing him in light before they dissipated, Bowman gone as quickly as he had arrived.

Truly now, he was amazed, "How did their leader know I was STG?"

The AI drones hovered back into the room. Peter and Matt's avatars reappeared as they sat down on the couch again.

"Do you know what's it like to be deactivated? Annoying as hell. Well, I hope whatever back room negotiations you did went well. Feel free to stay, we also have an assortment of different alcohols," said Peter as he grabbed a bottle and poured himself a glass.

Matt added on as he lifted his glass for a pour, "When you leave though, tell that Asari receptionist that she'll have to get over me. I'm taken."

"Terran AI capable of romance and intoxication. How fascinating indeed," said Mordin.

Peter chuckled, "You should see the look on a Quarian's face. Hell, you should just see a Quarian's face. It's a hell of a sight. Especially in infrared."

Nerval sighed. His job was done. The next step now under away. Feeling his age once more catching up to him, he took pleasure in knowing that the last year of his life would be in interesting times. But he still grew tired.

"Solus, please take me home."

* * *

Terran Wikipedia

 _ **United Terran Federation Fourth Fleet:**_

 _Active_ _: 11 September 2150-Present_

 _Country_ _: United Terran Federation_

 _Branch_ _: United Terran Navy_

 _Type_ _: Fleet_

 _Role_ _: Combat and Spacetime Operation; Colonial Security, Assistance, and Disaster Response. Aerospace Aviation Training and Coordination._

 _Part of_ _: Terran Naval Command (TERNAVCOM)_

 _Garrison/HQ_ _:_ _Intai'sei_ _Fleet yard, Argos Rho._

 _Commanders_ _:_

 _Notable_ _: Fleet Admiral Herald Muhammad_

 _Current_ _: Fleet Admiral Helen Valenzuela_

 _The Terran Navy Fourth Fleet is the fourth numbered fleet and fifth commissioned fleet in the Terran Navy. Based in the shipyard over Intai'sei, it is the only fleet that operates with a specialization; it has over twice the amount of aircraft carriers and numerous planet and orbital aviators facilities. As part of a continuous and on going operation with the other branches of the military, it is the training ground for the Terran Navy and Army aviator pilots._

 _The Fourth Fleet was commissioned in 2150, formed and officially commissioned on the First Terran Resiliency Day. It was originally to be the next fleet to be created as ship production continued after the Great Revival. However, Naval aviators lacked proper deployment training as the main fleets focused on ship-to-ship combat, an issue as Naval and Army aviation played a key role in the war on Earth. The Fourth was rearranged to be an aviator fleet. Both Naval and Army ground pilots are trained in the Fourth Fleet before being transferred to the rest of the military. However, the best pilots and aircrew in the Navy consider it an honor to be stationed permanently in the Fourth Fleet. The Fourth Fleet has over one hundred aircraft carries, over twice the regular commissioned average of forty per fleet._

 _The main commander of the fleet is Fleet Admiral Helen Valenzuela. A fighter pilot during the forties, she was one of the highest ranked aces during her deployment on Earth during the Revival. She was considered a natural choice for leading the Terran's aircraft fleet once the change in doctrine was finalized, and was recommended by Admiral Muhammad personally. From Argos Rho, the fleet traverses the Federation, exercising in war games with the others to train the millions of pilots._

* * *

 _Terran Wikipedia_

 _ **Helen Valenzuela:**_

 ** _Born_** _ **:** Helen Chavez Santana Valenzuela, 24 July 2108; Zona Rosa, Mexico City, Tenochtitlan, United States of North America (Age: 60)_

 ** _Allegiance_** _ **:** United Terran Federation_

 ** _Service_** _ **:** Terran Navy, Active;_

 ** _Years_** _ **of Service:** United Terran Navy (2138-Present)_

 ** _Rank_** _ **:** Fleet Admiral_

 ** _Battles/Wars:_**

The Great Revival

 _Liberation of Mexico City_

 _Defense of Washington D.C._

 _Liberation of New Baghdad_

 _Defense of Mecca_

 _The Gaza Skyway Campaign_

 _The Fallen Angel Deployment_

 ** _Awards:_**

 _Terran Purple Heart_

 _Terran Kármán Award_

 _Terran Naval Afterburner Medal_

 _Terran Ascending Angel Cross 3_ _rd_ _Class_

 _Terran Silver Star (2)_

 _Terran Bronze Star_

 _Terran Navy Distinguish Service Medal_

 _Terran Congressional Star of Terra_

 _Helen Valenzuela is the Fleet Admiral and head Commander of the Terran Fourth Fleet. Born at the time of world unity, she was the daughter of famed Mexican American pilot Vìctor Valenzuela, the veteran ace of the Great Liberation during the 2080s. She grew up in the moderately upscale neighborhood of Zona Rosa. She is currently divorced from three different marriages._

 _In her youth, she was an avid singer and began her famed singing career with her first single hit, 'Rebelde del Cielo'. From a period between 2124 and 2133, she toured across the world and numerous colonies, called by the entertainment media as the 'Mexican Diva' in her persona as 'Chavez Santana'. From 2130-2135, she made a failed attempt at acting and by 2135 her career was declared over. Her initial vocal opposition to the Unification of the Federation is considered the greatest early snub of her career._

 _After her singing career, she took advantage of her inherited aviator skills and flew in civilian air and space shows around the nation. It is believed that at the insistence of her dying father, she followed in his footsteps as a pilot and graduated the Academy as one of the highest skilled pilots. During the early forties, she flew in the Navy Star Angels, quickly becoming its leader pilot as they preformed._

 _Valenzuela' skills were soon demonstrated when she was placed in active combat during the initial scramble of the Great Revival. During the opening days of the uprising, she became an ace in its first weeks, shooting down rebel forces in the North American theater. Ascending to a leadership role, she organized the relief drop over her home city, allowing the Terran 45_ _th_ _militia to hold the city until the 7_ _th_ _Army arrived to relieve them. She was later transferred to the Middle East, where she was recorded to have had a dogfight and won in a four-way battle between the KCC, IOA, and the GIS._

 _In the final days leading to the Fallen Angel Deployment, she was shot down over Israel during the struggle to keep the Gaza Strip open for fleeing refugees. Alone for two weeks, she managed to fight her way to Terran-held Jerusalem through territory that was constantly changing hands between the three fundamentalist fractions. There, B7 forces protected her before a Naval raid led by Captain Andrew Roland broke through to retrieve her before the 'Fallen Angels' kinetic strike._

 _For her service and heroism, she was awarded the Congressional Star of Terra. She was later promoted to Rear Admiral and put in charge of the training of new aviator pilots onboard the Third Fleet's aircraft carriers. For her skill in developing new tactics in aircraft carrier deployment, she was made Admiral. When the Fourth Fleet was complete in 2158, she was made its commander and promoted to Fleet Admiral._

 _Last Edited 12 June 2167 14:47 UTC_

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Hey Everyone!  
Thanks for reading!

If you don't mind,  
I set up a new poll on my profile page.  
I plan to begin working on a new writing project soon,  
And I would love to know your opinion on the next story I should do.

And don't you worry, the Gambit continues!

Till than, and as always,

Thank you all for reading,  
Be sure to keep on following,  
There's more coming up!

And always feel free to review.  
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Go ahead and review or PM me.  
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/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\


	25. 24: The Hero and the Butcher Clash

**Chapter Twenty-Four: The Hero and the Butcher Clash, to the Song of Illium!**

* * *

 **Part 1:**

 **Admirals of the Fourth Fleet - FSS _Maria Cooper_  
End of Third Day of Diplomatic Talks  
July 3, 2167 23:00:00 UTC**

"Damn it Han, we are going to be late!"

"Keep your suit on! I'm going, I'm going!"

Through the large main corridors of the _Maria Cooper_ , the new Terran Admiral Zaal'Koris and Vice Admiral Han'Gerrel pushed their way through a congested corridor, as the crew of the massive aircraft carrier rushed to their stations. Along the corridor, the lights flashed yellow, bringing the ship to stand by on alert as loud speakers sounded off and alerted the ship of general orders, crew organization, and other important information.

" _Attention! Attention! Now hear this! All runway crew, report to your stations immediately! Cooper Formation will be first to deploy."_

Gerrel looked around as the ship readied for deployment, "I thought we were doing war games. Then I heard we're about to head into combat!"

"Everything is coming down from command so quickly. We need to get to the staff meeting on the bridge." They arrived at a main transport elevator and waited alongside a group of naval personnel; which included aviators still dressed in casual wear, runway crewmen in their color coordinated vests, and maintenance crewmen for the thousands of fighters, bombers, and drone aircrafts.

" _Attention! Attention! Now hear this!_ FSS Myrmidon _has departed from carrier docking port 2. Marine Taskforce Achilles is to report to hanger G-5 for debriefing."_

The elevator arrived and the large double layer doors opened wide. Inside was Marine Admiral Paris, flanked by some of the other Fourth Fleet staff officers and a few Marine guards, dressed in standard operations uniform.

"Admirals! The meeting is about to begin. Get in," he looked at the rest of them, "Sorry folks, elevator's taken."

Though they mumbled a bit, they knew what to do and kept moving. They scattered, hurrying to take auxiliary routes to their destinations. The elevator closed and took off, rushing to the bridge.

Paris looked to them, "I'm guessing this is a big change of pace to life on the Migrant Fleet, huh?"

"I would say the organization is far more formalized," remarked Gerrel, "The crew's quick rush to station is impressive."

Koris added on, "And to see so many onboard a single ship, each of them trained crewmen ready to preform. I'd say the real difference is the environment. Each ship back in the fleet is a home, not only to their crew but also to their own family and loved ones. These ships are strictly for war."

"They fight to keep their real home safe. These ships are an expression of our will to fight, to defend, and to liberate. I would imagine it is no different on a Turian vessel and what they stand for," remarked Paris, "They seem to be the only true might able to challenge us."

"Bah, they're no match for our combined forces, they couldn't even capture Admiral Vali!" replied Gerrel with a boost.

"Yet they arrested you _without_ a fight on Felsian," Koris chuckled at the memory, Gerrel grumbling all the while.

"Still, once we're done here, our position as the galactic power shall be affirmed to all."

" _Attention! Attention! Now hear this! Make preparation for the docking of_ FSS Ithaca _at docking port 2. Munitions crew report to docking port 2 to unload munitions ordinance. Marine Taskforce Odyssey, report to docking port 2 for boarding."_

"Have you been debriefed about Fleet Admiral Valenzuela?" asked Paris.

"I believe so," replied Koris, "I believe we met her once shortly after First Contact."

Paris smiled, "Then prepare to be amazed by the woman that launched a thousand fighters. Her skills and tactics created the modern Terran Aviator Force."

"I am looking forward to seeing these aircraft carriers in action. From what I've been told, you can build several of those massive battle cruisers for one carrier," commented Gerrel.

Paris chuckled, "With what I been told of the galaxy's naval doctrine, we only need a few to take on the galaxy."

Koris then noticed two symbols on his chest on his operational uniform. One on the right was a red patch, spelling 'N7'. The other was a small pin with the symbol of the Blue Berets.

"Those markings…"

Paris looked down, smiling, "Oh yes. I was one of the founding members of the N7s. I served as a Blue Beret with the Ninth battalion on Earth during the Revival. That's how I met Admiral Valenzuela when she was a pilot." He then stopped smiling and sighed, "Sometimes I wish I had been able to stay with Colonel Bishop. Being wounded isn't a good excuse for a B7 to retreat. Even if I got my legs blown off."

"I see… Now you're Navy?"

He grinned again, "It's not every day you see someone whom has served in all three branches. The Army is still keeping the position of general open if I want to return, but, well… I have my reasons."

* * *

"Commodore Taylor, are the escorts for the _Joseph Biden_ ready?" asked Valenzuela as she brought up the fleet formation on the holo table in her command bridge. She looked upon the flotilla gathered in Transwarp formation over the planet.

" _Homestead_ and the Group B are ready, ma'am," answered Taylor over the comm from his ship.

She replied, as the other staff officers continued organizing data on the table, "Understood. Makajima, Donovan, what's the sit rep on Group A and C?"

The Rear Admiral swiped her holoscreen to the relevant information as Donovan brought up his screen.

" _Chester Arthur_ has reported in, at full combat readiness," she answered.

" _Stephen Colbert_ and Group C are radioing in, ready and awaiting orders," he answered.

"That's it. Operation Asari Steed is a go! Commsman, hail star base 20 and alert them to our departure. Have the Transwarp relay set for the Tesale system."

The _Cooper_ took to the center of her escort of several dozen cruisers and frigates, cruising into the open space. Ahead of her was the formation of three hundred more ships, consisting of three more aircraft carriers and a Flagship for logistics and troop transport. At the far end of the horizon of Intai'sei, the flotilla was converging around a Transwarp conduit. As the ship made her way to join the flotilla, the remaining staff officers arrived on the bridge.

They all walked up and saluted her, "Fleet Admiral Valenzuela!"

She saluted back, "Operation Asari Steed is about to commence. To your stations." She turned to Paris and smiled, "And who do we have here?"

"Admiral Valenzuela, may I present your new staff members."

"Admiral Koris, Gerrel. I have heard much praise from Ambassador Ghirn." As Admiral Paris and the others walked over to the other command post to coordinate ship and Marine deployment, Koris and Gerrel reported to her. "Have you finished reading over the mission dossier?"

"Yes ma'am, but we are still not sure of this fleet formation. We're still not quite familiar with the concept of an aircraft carrier," replied Koris.

She crossed her arms and looked on, puzzled, "Really? A race on the run from its AI creation never had anything like dedicated carriers or battlestars before?"

"Excuse me, ma'am. But, battlestars?" asked Gerrel.

"Uh… Never mind. You wouldn't get the reference," She brought up a display of the _Marie Cooper_ on the holo table. "Your race developed on a mostly desert world, correct? Mostly land?"

Koris responded, "Yes that's correct. Most species have home worlds with a greater landmass over ocean… Except the Hanar anyway."

"Well Earth, in spite its name, is more water than land," she explained. "The seas connected the planet. In our civilization's development, the nations that ruled the oceans, ruled the world! Once we had large battleships and cruisers that made the might of any superpower's navy. But when we discovered air power, it changed warfare. The sky was the great constant; to rule the heavens meant you ruled everything beneath it. Air dominance on land meant you could bring entire empires to their knees. Air dominance over the ocean meant you could bring the world truly under your control. It rendered all older forms of naval warfare obsolete." She knocked on the command table, then directed them to the massive viewport, the flotilla in sight, "Thus was the birth of the aircraft carrier. Those who ruled the skies ruled the seas. And those who ruled the seas… ruled the world."

"And this military doctrine applies in space?" asked Gerrel as he opened up his screen on the table.

She chuckled, "Space is like an ocean! The stars that we once used to traverse the waters, we now use once more. We, interstellar sailors, sail and fly on the once unreachable and infinite horizon, where the oceans meet the sky. We traverse the end, and also the beginning." She walked away from table, gesturing them to follow her. As they walked through the central walkway on the bridge, the bridge crew rushing about or manning the lines of consoles in the trenches beside them.

"This is the true might of the Terran Navy," she continued. "The Council fears our battle cruisers and our flagships. But all of those ships are just relics reflecting a time long since gone. Anyone that dares oppose us, I shall bring them to their knees as we swarm them like locusts!" She continued to stare out the viewport into the stars and sighed. "Wish I was a pilot again."

As they stared out of the viewport towards the stars, Admiral Paris walked over to them with a tablet in his hand.

"The XIII Marine Corps is ready to deploy, Admiral." he said as she turned around and read the data from the Marines for the landing force. Most were currently waiting on the heavy cruisers and carriers, their shuttles and larger troop transports awaiting the order, "My Trojans are ready to break through any wall and take the jewel that is Illium."

She gave only a murmur of acknowledgment as she looked at the report. "Yes, yes." she said, without much tone in her voice, "You said the opposite back in Athens…"

He groaned and sighed, "Please, Helen. Let's just be thankful that was a false positive and we walked away from that on good terms."

She smiled a bit in amusement, "We'll always have Athens, Hector..." She turned back to her new Quarian admirals, "Oh yes. Report to the command table, and coordinate the taskforce."

A bit confused, they walked back to the table, the other officers waiting for them to discuss the next step of the operation. As they took their position around the main central table, Koris and Gerrel looked back to the front, seeing the two admirals conversing in a more casual manner.

"They seem well acquainted," commented Koris.

Donavan responded as he continued typing on his screen, "One would hope as much between exes."

"Those two used to be married?" Gerrel looked back to them, then back to the table, "Why in the name of the ancestors would Command assign them to the same staff?"

"We're the Navy!" remarked Donavan, laughing as he shook his head, "My bet is that Donnelly wanted to see if drama would occur. Unfortunately for him, they work well together, so he left them here."

Koris thought about it, "If he got a laugh from it, keep them there. If they actually worked together, keep them there… Why does the head Admiralty make such irrational choices?"

"We're humans," answered Makajima with a grin, "When you're a race that can go insane just by staring at the void, and have a fleet with nothing to do, you keep yourself entertained."

"Oh, that's splendid," sighed Gerrel.

"That reminds me! I heard about what happen between you and Admiral Hackett, Vice Admiral," said Donavan, "Quarians may be more physical than us chimps, but you simple don't win a fight against a man that killed a Nazi storm trooper with his bare, fifteen-year-old hands."

He huffed at the thought, crossing his arms, "I didn't like the way he was looking at Shala."

Koris sighed, "That would explain why Donnelly was enjoying himself during that formal banquet."

* * *

Carrier Group V arrived, and joined up at the center of the flotilla as they took position. Venezuela joined up with her immediate staff and gave the signal to open the fold in space. Across each ship, the crew of each one was alerted to the jump. Admiral Donavan opened the ship wide comms; a loud whistle rang out across the ship.

" _Attention, Attention! Now hear this! All crew to Transwarp jump stations. Commencing jump is ten seconds!"_

Valenzuela turned back up to her helmsman in the elevated area of the bridge.

"Forward full!"

"Aye, aye! Forward, full impulse!" he said as he inputted the command onto the console that surrounded him, his eyes still staring straight at the viewport.

The Taskforce sailed towards the spatial distortion, a large Transwarp relay projecting the tear in space far behind it. In a sudden shift, they emerged as quickly as they entered, appearing over a small moon a million kilometers from Naxell, warping instantly to the other side of the galaxy. As the last ship signaled the successful passage through, the fold dissipated, leaving the flotilla in open space.

Makajima turned to Venezuela, "Admiral, Commander Melvin from astrometric has confirmed our location. The Tesale System, planet Naxell, 17th moon by Council charts."

"Thank you, Admiral. Gerrel, give me scans of the local area. Intelligence reports say the remains of the Council Defense Fleet are fighting in this area."

Gerrel imputed a command on the holo screen in front of him over the table, bringing a map of the immediate system around the gas giant, stretching over thirty million kilometers.

"Right here," reported Gerrel to Venezuela. "Near the third moon… and what appears to have been the Naxell fueling depot."

She crossed her arms and looked on as the map began to update more frequently as the ensuing battle with the raider fleet continued, hyperspace scanners quickly scanned the area. "Right… Begin offensive! Prepare to deploy and intercept the raider fleet! Bowman wants us to save them before moving on to Illium."

Gerrel spoke out, having not expected an interception of raider forces outside the vicinity of Illium, as well as not being overly fond of the idea of saving the Council Fleet.

"Rescue them? We should press the assault now, then save them!"

"The President wants them saved!" responded Valenzuela, "And you will request next time to speak your opinion. Admittedly, it's clear we are doing this to win favor with the Council to get that seat. Once we show to the entire galaxy our decisive victory and more importantly, the manner through which we achieve it, I'm confident they'll cave in to our request. Someone has to protect them." She turned to Donovan. "Begin launch! They won't see us coming, so let's do this by the book! I want this, 'Matriarch' Zamora, to know very well who is saving their asses."

"Yes, ma'am!"

And with a press of his screen, the order to attack was sent.

* * *

 **Part 2:**

 **The Fourth Fleet - Tesale System  
Fourth Day of Diplomatic Talks; Liberty Day  
July 4, 2167; 00:00:00 UTC**

Awaiting the final order to deploy, the thousand fighters and bombers in each carrier began procedures to launch.

The modern Terran aircraft carrier was the pinnacle of the Navy's tactical capabilities. The initial rush into space during the early twenty-second century saw man initially go through centuries' worth of naval deployment all over again but in space. It was sped up thanks to the continued mentality was that space was nothing more than a modern analogy for oceans. From small scout ships came the traditional standard of cruisers and large battle equipped vessels. While the end result, the carrier was foreseen well in advanced, the new challenges of space made both its development and use limited. The Revival soon gave the Terrans the planetary and in rare instances, spatial experience, to use them to their full potential. Since then, battle cruisers and Flagships were a strategic and symbolic form of naval power. But if they were to win any battle, any war, it would be through their aircraft carriers. To rule the infinite horizon, where the ocean meets the sky.

In the hangers underneath and above the main runway, aviator pilots and crew waited in their aircrafts as the flight deck crews finished prepping. All of them were fully suited for both the minimal atmosphere environment and the anti-gravity zone along the runway. Each fighter and its launch crew rested on the platform as it was raised or lowered on to the runway. Each wave of aircraft was locked onto the catapult launch system; they were more for guiding the aircrafts into place on the deck rather than for actually launching them. As they lined up, physical barriers rose to separate the fighter and bomber wave, each one a hundred meters from the other, as to avoid taking the blast exhaust from the wave in front of it.

For its main force, the flight deck was still the standard for launching aircrafts. On the main four flight decks inside the ship that spanned its entire length, squadrons of fighters and bombers took position to launch. Along the forward half were smaller flight decks that connected to the side of the ship. At the forward kilometer of the runway and the smaller side decks, the Terran's FG-20C Lighting fighters were up first. This 'Fighter-General' aircraft was the current generation of aerospace superiority fighters; with its titanium smooth swept wings, twin fusion aerospace ramjets, mark-IV plasma phaser cannons, and internal missile bay. Its manufacturer was QCI owned Mikoyan-Grumman, going by the name MiG-75 when the Terran Militia used prototypes during the Revival. For the carrier variant, they were the forward tips of the aerial spear, clearing the way for the bombers, or preventing counter attacks by other fighters.

Waiting at the middle and rear of the runway were the BC-5 Vulture carrier based bombers. Smaller than the older BG-40 Valkyrie general bomber used during the Revival, they operated more on the line of missile carriers. In waves, their long range, STL warp missiles could overwhelm cruisers with ease, or wreak havoc on fighter wings when ambushed. Physically, they followed the standard HF owned Lockheed-Northrop design of tactical aircrafts, and were only two and a half times larger than its fighter escort. While a STOL craft also, they used up the full runway, an important necessity in atmospheric launch, but a common practice in space launch.

Along the side of each carrier, the separate side hangars prepared for launch. Here, aircrafts were locked into place by docking clamps. A majority of them were drone aircraft, based off the old MiG-55; used offensively as cannon fodder to absorb fire for more precious planes, or to create a defensive plane around their home carrier. In some hangars were the carrier based Lockheed-Northrop FBC-24 Seagull fighter-bombers. Unlike the STOL FG-20, the 'Seagull' was a full VTOL aircraft, designed for seamless switches between space and atmospheric operations, and for quick landings and resupplying. While fighters followed a flexible, but clear attack plan of clearing away enemy aircraft and returning for squadron rotation, the Seagulls were operated on a 'threat priority' basis; squadrons moving about as needed to clear the area, or aid in strategic or tactical air to ship torpedoes, or ground strikes with its Type-II ODMM. Their pilots were usually young to allow for the longer flight time they would do in combat, led by a veteran from other air divisions.

On each control station along the ship's three-kilometer flight deck, each plane gave their signal for readiness as they took position on the deck. In the hangars above and below, planes for the next wave were being prepped by their flight crews while their pilots waited in the waiting rooms.

Across the flight deck, the signal lights flashed yellow, the flight deck crew for each wing running to the side. Finally, the order was received; the commanders in the overlooking control stations gave the green light. The fighters were off first, each wave's take off officer, or 'shooter', gave the final signal to launch to the pilots, before signaling to the next crew behind them that the runway was clear. Soon after, the bomber wings were away, one squadron after the other shooting out the front of the massive ship and into the void. When the last one shot through the flight deck and into the void, the light went to red as the next wave was raised or lowered down onto the deck, prepped and ready as their pilots rushed to man them. Finally, the drones and fighter-bombers were off, coordinated by the control towers lining the outside of the ship.

Valenzuela stood at the very forward of her bridge, looking on as thousands of planes left her ship and joined with the taskforce. A part of her wished to be leading the force that would demonstrate the true power of the Terrans to the galaxy. The old 'Sky Rebel' just had to contend that she was now the queen of her locust. She whispered a verse from an old song she once sang, but without any tune; more as a statement.

" _We are the locust, a swarm, a blight. For the crop that is to be the Reaper's, we take for ourselves instead_."

* * *

"This is Alpha-1, leading Cooper Formation. Bomber lead, please respond, over."

Several hundred kilometers behind the fighter formation, the commander leading the Vulture bomber wave from the _Marie Cooper_ responded.

"This is Easy-1-Actual. Reading you loud and clear. Go ahead, over."

" _Cooper_ reports the raider fleet is engaging Council forces over the designated first moon. Please confirm destination as local coordinate 8545.7579.1922. Over."

"Wilco, standby." After a short moment, as the vulture's hyperspace scanners updated, they responded, "Alpha-1, we have a match. Raider fleet is engaging Council at those coordinates. New intel from _Cooper_ suggests four thousand ships of frigate size and above for the raiders."

"Roger, moving to coordinates. _Cooper_ , formation is ready to warp on my mark."

Back at the ship, a flight control tower acknowledged. As the last arrived in formation for all the aircraft, they slowly turned twenty degrees around the edge of the moon, now pointed at the first moon twelve million kilometers away. They stayed in formation, a four-edged spear tip, with the fighters first, followed by the bombers as drones and fighter-bombers roamed about. They then jumped to warp and reappeared a hundred thousand kilometers away from the battle. Though they only saw a bit of light delayed flashes near the remnants of the fueling station, the remaining defense fleet of only a thousand rallied in one last effort to defend themselves against the overwhelming raider presence. While the fleet had since managed to overcome the raider's initial hacking, they were badly wounded and in a poor position.

Flying through the void at over Mach 40, the different formations maintained their approach trajectory, with Cooper formation coming in at the side of the engaging raider fleet. As they got closer to where individual ships could be made out from eye sight, a commanding fighter bomber radioed in, while flying next to Alpha-1 a few kilometers away.

"WASP, this is Zone. My scans reveal incoming fighters from the raiders," reported the ace veteran fighter to his colleague, using his old call sign.

"Roger, Zone. Easy, do you have confirmation?"

The bomber responded, "I have radar on them. Reading about a few hundred. Patching everyone to AWACS Athena."

"Copy. All fighters protect bomber and drone formation." With long range radar scans patched into every aircraft, Alpha could see the closest fifty on his helmet's HUD. With a quick press on his console, each fighter in his squadron was designated a target to begin their attack run as enemy fighter trajectory was displayed. "Zone, care to join?"

The pilot of the fighter-bomber laughed before responding, "I would love to go on your little Liberty Day barbecue; but I've got a squadron of rookies who are better off taking out a slow moving cruiser with their names on it. When they can hit that and the broad side of a barn with ODMMs, we'll join your party."

"Your loss, Zone. Happy hunting."

"Same to you, WASP. Hey, remember Mexico City? You make ace again, and drinks are on me!"

"Ha, I'll make the _Locust Queen_ herself proud!"

The fighter-bombers veered off, the swarm of drones following them. Raider fighters took notice and began to pursue, but the main wave of fighters swooped in and began attacking; their first volley destroying the raiders quickly before drawing them away.

"It's Liberty Day, lads! Let's break out the fireworks. Alpha-1, Fox 2!"

As the space battle commenced, the first wave of carefully prepared drones, guided by special Vulture Bombers, began closing in on the main raider fleet, drawing them away from the battered Council Fleet. With minimal weaponry, they flooded the void surrounding them, drawing fire from the raiders. The raiders armed their GUARDIAN lasers and fired, destroying the drones.

But before the first wave finished, their long range, second market lasers overheated and jammed, just as planned. The remaining drones broke off as the heavily armed fighter-bombers began the second wave. The fighters unloaded their barrier bashing torpedoes, lighting them up as they finished their run, before pursuing any stray raider fighters in the void.

The next waves moved in, Vultures descending on the defenseless raider fleet.

"Beginning bombing run. Let's light up the barbecue! Easy-1, DRIVE!"

The Vultures moved in, each wave in formation with each bomber on the same grid plane. Their center bay pointing down and side bays facing up opened, and hundreds of missiles were launched out into the void. All of them sharply turned forward and raced to their targets as the first wave veered off to return to their carriers. The antiproton missiles made their mark, a few hundred missiles impacting each of the large cruisers manned by the raiders.

* * *

General Oraka stumbled his way onto the CIC of the Asari flagship. He had transferred his command of the Turian XXV Marine Corps sent to Illium to the ARS _Kassandra_ when the relief force arrived; he had been forced from orbit when the raiders regained orbital control. The ship had already stopped shaking a few moments ago, but he had taken to drink beforehand, being a lightweight for a Turian.

He made his way to Zamora, who was staring out through her main screen at the raider fleet.

"Are you seeing this?" asked Zamora as she turned back to the buzzed general.

He walked over and shook his head before looking out as well. "They look like the fireflies on Sur'Kesh. There must be thousands of them."

"What sensors we have say they are small space crafts, small fighters, and tactical bombers." She walked over to her sensor officer, "Any more intel? Where are they all coming from?"

"Nothing, ma'am," she replied, "We're trying to get a signal lock on their IFF… Goddess, look at that!"

They turned to the viewport. Against the background of Naxell, over several thousand kilometers away, thousands of small dots whizzed about, Terran fighters swatting down raider fighters as the waves of Terran bombers launched their ordinance. They all stared on in a mix of awe and bewilderment as thousands of small dots emerged from the hundreds of slightly larger ones and all raced to the raider fleet. From that distance, the missiles merged to appear like one large mouth, reaching out to consume the raider fleet whole.

And quickly they did, each of the thousands of missiles 'bit down' and hit their target. The Council commanders were nearly blinded by the bright spectacle; hundreds of thousands of small explosions filled the void, each one like a firecracker from that distance that formed into large flash of continuing light. For a moment, the screen dimmed to filter the light. When they looked back, the raider fleet was gone, with further bomber waves making their attack runs on the remnants.

The sensor officer turned to her screen, noticing something new on their sensors. Before she could point it out, they all saw what it was on screen. From the nearby moon close to the one they were in orbit of, the might of the Terran Navy appeared between them, a small fleet of escort ships encircled the large aircraft carriers.

As the aircrafts began returning, the officer reported.

"Ma'am! We have confirmation! It's Terran!"

"Terran? What are they doing here?!" asked Oraka.

"They must be a dedicated mobile aircraft base," said Zamora. "I'm not questioning it. Better to be receiving their good side, unlike Lidanya."

Oraka shook his head to clear his mind, "I must be seeing things. I've never heard of such a use for a ship that size just as a carrier of sorts."

* * *

From around the moon, the Taskforce turned about and jumped to join the main aircraft formations. The first formation began their return, fighters and bombers lining up behind the carriers to land with the special docking system, as fighter-bombers and drones slowed to a crawl along the side hangars and latched onto their docking clamps. Outside, the carriers' escorts moved in to rid the remaining raider fleet, now utterly in shambles. Back in the carriers, the next wave forward along the runway were getting ready, this time for atmospheric conditions.

On the bridge, Koris and Gerrel looked on in wonder at the human's unique weapon of war. From this one vessel, they unleashed swarms of strike craft in never before seen numbers and use. Together, they saw how they equated to the firepower of a fleet of dreadnoughts.

"Admiral, no more hostiles are being detected in the immediate vicinity," reported Donavan.

She began walking towards the front of her bridge, staring out at the viewport as she signaled back to them, "Hail the leading Council ship."

In a short moment, the Council Fleet Commander appeared on screen. "Terran force, this is Matriarch Zemora, of the Citadel Council Terminus Fleet."

She stared up at the screen and smiled, "Matriarch. I am Fleet Admiral Venezuela of the Fourth Fleet of the Terran Navy. We are here to aid and assist. Do you require immediate assistance?"

"You really are those Terrans… Our remaining ships have sustained heavy damage. We need medical attention and some of our ships need to be evacuated."

"Copy that. I'm sending ships to begin aid. Have your officers coordinated with mine on this frequency. Fourth Fleet out." She ended the call and brought up a list of ship for the assault.

"Koris, what's the status of the main force?"

Koris brought up the list as well, "Minimal loss on the aircrafts. The first two waves are returning to refuel and rearm. Third wave ready to deploy."

Venezuela nodded, "Good. Send our escort to aid the Council Fleet." She looked back to the rear of her bridge, where the Marine officers and helmsman were. "Helmsman, lay in a course for Illium. Paris, ready the liberation force. We take Illium today!"

Paris yelled out in confirmation, "Yes ma'am!" He turned to his own staff, "Begin coordination. We're leading the way!"

Venezuela returned to the table and opened the 3D map of the solar system. Arrows pointed from the flotilla to Illium, as the next waves prepared to make the short warp jump to the planet. The main helmsman then alerted her that the ship and its own escorts were ready to make the jump as well to Illium.

"On your mark, Admiral."

She signaled to him, "Engage!"

* * *

 **Part 3:**

 **Captain Mitchell of Lima Squad - Nos Astra  
Liberty Day  
July 4, 2167 05:00:00 UTC**

The skyline was full of flak as Terran fighters raced through the skylines of the colony capital of Nos Astra. As far as the eye could see, the once iconic buildings at the heart of the financial center of the galaxy were in flames. Across the rooftops and balconies of these monuments to Laissez-Faire Capitalism, the greedy and opportunistic Terminus raiders battled against the first wave of the Terran Marines; who, for the most part, were not quite sure whether they themselves were technically a socialist or a capitalist society.

Inside a shuttle of the second wave of Taskforce Achilles, the newly promoted Captain Mitchell stood there, holding onto a railing as he observed the skyline. With him was his new squad, Lima, fresh from their tour during the Skyllian Blitz. He then looked down at his new armor, the latest HK Mark X power armor with the iconic red 'N7' patch on his right chest. He felt proud to wear the title of N7 as one of the finest Marines Terra had to offer. But he knew that his new status was more of a political move. If anything, even if he did think he earned it, he knew the price to get it was too great.

He turned back and sat down with his new squad. "So… you're a Marine?" asked Mitchell to an accompanying Quarian Marine sitting across from him.

"Yes, sir! The finest the Migrant Fleet had to offer," responded Donn, wearing his new suit, fitted with custom Marine armor. The shuttle shook as it raced through more flak from the skyscrapers of Nos Astra.

"That's good. Let's see how you fight. Have you familiarized yourself with the Lancer?"

Donn chuckled, "Of course. My family comes from a long line of Marines, and also weapons manufacturers. This is a nice rifle and all, but if you never fired a Reeger, well…" He un-holstered his Widow Rifle. "Then you've never really fired a gun before."

Mitchell smiled, "Sounds impressive. When we're done wiping these pirates and slavers clean off this planet, I would love to give that thing a try."

"You have a deal."

Mitchell turned to the rest of his squad, "Lima, on me!"

Quickly, the entire squad turned to give their attention to their new commanding officer.

"Good. Right now, we are en route to the Nos Astra Stock Exchange, twenty clicks from here. Our mission is to recover a Council VIP and bring her back to safety."

"A Council VIP?" asked Lieutenant Tamarine, his new XO.

"This comes from Admiral Paris himself. Intel suggests she is an essential figure to the 'Asari', so saving whoever she is is of the upmost importance."

"Must be a high ranking Matriarch," commented Donn, "They have a lot of influence back on Thessia… that's their home world, by the way."

Mitchel smirked, then smiled a bit as he shook his head, "Since we're saving their world for them, we might as well go the extra mile." He then shouted out, "The President wants that seat on the Council! Who is going to get it for him?"

"The Marines!" They all shouted in unison.

"And why are we gonna get him that seat?!"

"Because he's Navy and owns our asses!" They answered with self-deprecating amusement.

"Ooorah!"

The shuttle continued through the city lines. A raider gunship approached from below, attempting to shoot down the formation of shuttles. Quickly though, a Terran fighter passed by, gunning down the chopper as it flew away, a massive gust of afterburner thrust shaking them about. As more gunships came around from a nearby skyscraper, the shuttles and their Marines took action themselves. Each broke off from the convoy, each gunship then breaking off from their formation to pursue in turn.

Lima squad locked into place as Mitchell manned the sideboard machine gun, mag locking his boots to the floor as Reeger and Tamerine having also done the same, aiming their Widow and Lancer respectively. The shuttle kept banking right, presenting its right broadside as the three fired out. The pursuing gunship followed, firing its own forward guns, but was unable to hit due to the zigzag pattern of the shuttle. The raider shuttle fired off its own missiles, but a combination of Terran flares and machine gun fire made short work of them. Approaching a cluster of buildings blocking their way, the shuttle's pilot took action through a small bypass tunnel, the gunship in pursuit.

Zigzagging through the tunnels, the shuttle emerged ahead first at one of the ends, but the gunship was still close behind. With what short time they had, the shuttle turned to present its armed broadside, the three of them aimed out.

"Just need one shot…"

Donn took aim, the gunship dead ahead as it rushed the last segment of the tunnel to the exit. Mitchell and Tamerine continued firing, their rounds bouncing off the barrier and armor of the gunship. Donn fired off once, missing and hitting a gas pipe deep in the tunnel. He hit his rifle to eject the heat sink and quickly went to fire again. He took aim and fired, but the gunship swerved as it fired another missile. The hypersonic round hit the missile, setting off both the missile and the gas in the tunnel, a massive backup explosion raced to the exit as fast as the gunship, tailing it by only meters.

"Come on, come on!" Donn furious over his two misses as he bashed the next heat sink in.

He took aim, the gunship just seconds from the exit. Pulling the trigger, a sand grain round coursed through the mass effect ejection system, the round coming out at over two-thirds the speed of light. In nano-seconds, the round burned through the air and finally made contact with the cockpit, bursting through the glass, before continuing through into the rest of the gunship.

In the half second it took for him to register the pull of his own finger, the gunship burst into flames as it passed out of the tunnel. The shuttle pulled up, dodging first of the flaming wreck as it fell into the depths of the city, then the explosion from the tunnel; pulling away altogether as it moved on to its original destination.

"Ha! What do you humans call it? 'Nailed Lady Charm three times'?"

Mitchell turned to him, before bursting out laughing, "With a rifle like that, you can call it whatever you want!"

* * *

 **Part 4:**

 **Spectre Vasir and Captain Mitchell - Azure Hotel  
July 4, 2167 06:00:00 UTC**

"Get out here and help me!"

On a balcony overlooked by the Azure Hotel, Spectre Vasir was deadlocked in a battle with raider forces as they fought their way to fall back from the advancing Terran forces. With her elite biotics and martial arts, she fought off waves of low skilled raiders as the Turian Marine squad that was accompanying her took cover inside the hotel, taking shots at the raiders outside.

"Are you crazy? Get the hell to cover!" yelled the commander of the Marines.

"You are fucking Havoc Marines!" A raider charged at her, a rifle with an omni-blade on it, but she quickly side stepped him; elbowing him first in the chest to stun him, then next bashed his arm to grab the rifle, and finishing up with a quick kick to the knee to knock him down before she stabbed him with his own rifle. "Get out of that whore house and fight!"

"We are Turian Marines, not fucking idiots!" he stayed down behind cover under the broken windows as he directed his squad to spread out and assist. "Damn Spectres and their inability to comprehend the concept of cover!"

Above, the convoy regrouped and continued on to their objective. As they passed by, a bright blue flash caught the attention of Mitchell as he looked out of the shuttle.

"Is that one of their Kinetics?" asked Mitchell.

Donn looked over, using his new HUD to zoom in on the battle on the balcony below, "Well, would you look at that? The famed Spectre Tele Vasir."

"Spectre? They're the Council secret agents, right?" asked Tamerine.

"She's well-known among us Quarians. She was assigned originally to kill Admiral Vali after he destroyed Triginta Petra. Instead, my father helped him escape by tricking her into destroying an asteroid being mined by the Elcor under the pretext they were secretly helping us. Needless to say, when there was no proof, the Council was not happy."

"I see. Then there is only one option…"

The pilot turned back and grunted, "You're gonna show off, aren't you?"

"Wait, she is a five-hundred-year-old Spectre!" exclaimed Donn.

"And I'm a Terran. It equals out. Collins, _Screamin' Eagle_!"

He sighed, but gave a thumbs-up in acknowledgement. The shuttle veered off from the rest and climbed up, until it was a few hundred meters above. For a brief moment, it rolled on its side, the open shuttle hatch facing down. With everyone else mag locked in place, Mitchell unlocked and immediately kicked off from the edge of the shuttle, entering a kinetic charge straight down to the balcony.

In that second, his world slowed to a crawl as time relative to him slowed down. The battlefield was still as he came down and was a bit breathtaking, but he took only that second to take it in before he looked back down at his target. As he approached the ground, there were two raiders below him in position to charge at Vasir. He raised his arm and kinetically charged his fist.

In that same second, Vasir looked up for a moment, noticing the shuttle flying by, before she saw the blue flash of a biotic charge. Before she could level her head, Mitchell left his charge and unleashed a massive Nova blast, blasting the surrounding raiders away as it cushioned his own fall, a small crater of tiles and concrete where he had landed. He quickly rose as the raiders changed targets to him.

As Vasir stood there, stunned by what just happed, Mitchell sprang into action. He leveled his rifle and fired, mowing down raiders at near point blank with his Lancer. One raider with an omni-blade got close and Mitchell held his rifle up to block, the rifle was cut in half by his swing. Mitchell dropped it and quickly took out a combat knife, stabbing him behind the neck before he could recover. He pulled out and turned back to three more raiders. He threw his knife at one with extra kinetic force, before pulling out his shotgun from behind and blasting away at the other two, shredding them with high kinetic tungsten-lead BBs.

A raider behind him managed to sneak up and jumped on him, trying to lock his head with his arms. Before he could though, Mitchell shook him off and deployed his custom modified omni-blade, stabbing him where he stood as he leveled his shotgun and fired at the remaining raiders on the balcony.

As he finished up and turned to Vasir, he quickly reacted and pulled out his sidearm, taking aim at her. She snapped out and raised a barrier, but he fired first. She closed her eyes for a moment, before realizing she wasn't hit. Seeing him lower his pistol, she turned back, noticing a raider right behind her with his pistol aimed at the back of her head. With a burning round in his forehead, he fell to the ground, Vasir quickly moved aside. She turned back to him as he was slowly walking backwards to the edge of the balcony.

"You're welcome!"

He gave her a two-finger salute and at the very edge, he jumped backwards and off the balcony. With the accompanying Marines coming out, they and Vasir all rushed to the edge, only to be suddenly knocked down by the blast of a racing shuttle shooting up into the air.

As she grumbled, slowly becoming angry, the commander looked up and spoke what was on everyone's mind.

"These Terran pyjacks are insane!"

* * *

 **Part 5:**

 **Commander Roosa and Alpha Squad - Nos Astra  
July 4, 2167 08:00:00 UTC**

"Another ruined holiday…" Jenkins sighed as he and Alpha squad sat in the shuttle as it made its way through the city, "I mean we missed the last one. I was hoping to catch this one. I'm sure as hell not getting Resiliency Day off."

"Liberty Day, huh? These wars always pick a good day to begin," said Roosa as he copiloted the shuttle, escorting them to their destination.

"I don't care what those politicians call it. It's not 'Liberty Day' it's Independence Day! It's a cultural holiday. I had planned on going back to Eden Prime. Spend some time with the kids, maybe sleep in."

"Some shore leave would be nice. Visit some nice places and learn the meaning and significance of the holiday in order to better understand the point of it all."

"Why is everything a field trip to the museum with you… Oh God. If that's why we went into town on Elysium, I'm going to be pissed."

Roosa looked back, "Excuse me?"

Jenkins rolled his eyes, "I'm going to be pissed… sir!"

"Copy that, Sarge."

The shuttle continued, holding Alpha squad. They were part of Taskforce Odyssey, the detachment meant for using the beachhead established by Achilles to hold the city. As the second main wave of the assault on the capital, they had met overall less resistance. The sky now filled with Terran shuttles and fighter-bombers, as fighters roamed the skyline. Numerous passed by the shuttle as they switched between the different areas of the city, providing support as needed.

On radio, Roosa saw a communications notice on his screen. He answered, "This is _Virgil_. Come in, over."

"This is Lima. We have a VIP, secured. Requesting evac at initial drop zone."

"Copy, Lima. We are en route. Out."

* * *

 **Captain Mitchell and Matriarch Aethyta  
Eternity Lounge**  
 **An hour earlier…**

As they neared their target, the shuttles began to disband, flying to their main targets. Lima Squad continued, approaching the main grounds of the Nos Astra Exchange. Awaiting final support, Mitchell manned the side machine gun, spraying down the open-air trade floor, pinning the raiders, as their shuttle got closer to the balcony. A fighter-bomber than arrived at their position, switching to vertical thrust as it took aim with its phaser cannons. As the shuttle landed, the fighter-bomber fired, shredding the trading floor and the raiders on it to pieces as it left a trail of destruction and burn marks. It quickly took off and made its way to other calls.

They jumped off, rushing for cover behind a few trading consoles. More raiders rushed out from inside to hold off the Terrans. The Marines stayed in order and picked their shots, firing cleanly into the raiders, which consisted of varying aliens from Batarian to Turian, and even a Krogan. While their Lancers shredded through the more humanoid aliens, the Krogan remained un-phased by the squad's suppressing fire. He charged at Mitchell, who had taken point.

Mitchell saw it coming and prepared to counter. Too close for a charge, he ran right back at him, but then dropped to the floor and slid underneath as he got close to the Krogan. Sliding right between the Krogan's legs, Mitchell pivoted, channeling a kinetic kick right up into the charging Krogan. The force propelled the Krogan upwards and into the air. He kept flying, going over the squad and over the balcony behind them, down into the city below.

"Pretty sure he can't fly," he muttered before ordering the squad forward, kinetically charging another raider before he stabbed him with his war-prized omnitool.

"Your species can really wield strong biotics," said Donn as he caught up and fired a clean shot off at a raider on a nearby balcony. They took cover at another console, "I doubt Vasir could have imagined seeing that from a human."

Mitchell looked over and laid down suppressing fire to cover his Marine's advance, "And to think I'm only the second generation of Kinetics."

"The Admiralty said your race amazed them. You remind me of my father, when he was a young biotic." He poked out of cover, shooting down a charging Turian. "Got anything else?"

"Did we mention we have advanced artificial intelligence?" said Mitchell, chuckling afterwards as he laid suppressing fire near the entrance to Eternity.

"Oh don't remind me. It was bad enough he thought he was friends with a Geth in his youth."

The raiders regrouped across the trading floor, the Marines quickly putting the pressure on them. As they advanced on them, they received a local radio signal on their watches. Mitchell ducked under cover and answered it, "This is Terran Captain Mitchell of Lima squad. Come in, over."

Static came in, but the watch quickly readjusted it into something audible, "..elp… der fire from… to Eternity Lounge…"

"What was the voice saying?" asked Tamarine as she ran up to them.

"I think someone needs help. Where's Eternity Lounge?" asked Mitchell.

Donn pointed out, "Right there, where the raiders are holding up."

He shook his head, "Ah damn. Squad! Move up and take that entrance!"

They moved up, laying down fire as they picked off the rest of the raiders and made their way to the entrance. Half the squad gathered near the door as the other half kept an eye on the surrounding balcony. Mitchell gave the signal, hacking the door open and throwing in a grenade. As soon as it detonated, they rushed in, gunning down any raider still standing. They climbed up the stairs, rounded a corner, and backed down into a lobby. They auto-translated and read the sign, indicating the entrance to the main area proper.

"Ok, prepare for a rescue insertion. Check your shots. Civilians may be inside," instructed Mitchell as they got closer to the door.

He gave a short count, then held his palm on the touchscreen interface as his watch did the hacking. The door then opened up ever so slightly. When he finished, he threw in a smoke grenade. When it exploded, the door opened and they rushed in, their HUD displaying infrared signatures. Tamarine quickly called in, five confirmed raiders in the lounge, along with other body signatures. The squad took aim and fired. They quickly went down, but Mitchell noticed quickly that something was wrong. All the raiders were shot in the back. He looked back up in front of him, seeing something in the grey smoke. Before he could raise his rifle, a biotic thrust came right at him.

He was shoved to the ground. As the others tried to react and figure out what was happening, the assailant ran through the smoke and at Mitchell. As he looked up, the assailant jumped on top of him and pinned him to the ground. Through the smoke, he could see as the assailant raised her fist and gave off a biotic glow. As the smoke faded, she became visible to everyone, apparently ready to crush Mitchell's head.

But she had stopped her assault, having noticed the pistol Mitchell had placed under her chin. As they raised their rifles at her, she then recognized who they were and lowered her biotics. With her hands opened, she stood up and backed away from him. He stood up and instructed his squad to lower their arms.

"You're not raiders." she said as she walked up to Mitchell.

He shook his head to refocus his mind, "No, I'm Captain Mitchell, a Terran Marine."

"Aethyta, I'm the bartender here. Oh, and uh, sorry about almost crushing your head in. Been held up here for the last day."

"Well, just be careful whom you try to crush," He stretched his neck, "Wait? Aethyta? As in Matriarch Aethyta?"

She was surprised for a moment at being called that, especially by a race that had barely made contact with the Asari. "Why're you asking?"

"My mission was to head to the Exchange and save you from the raiders, before evacuating you to our fleet in orbit."

"Save me?"

"You have been classified by our intelligence as a VIP."

"Oh, I see. Save my ass and you get points toward getting that seat. Your intel is faulty," she chuckled, "But I appreciate the compliment. It's nice being wanted."

Mitchell continued, "Whether or not you're important, we are here to save you. It was a good thing you sent out that message."

"Me? No. It was one of those people over there, behind the counter."

Mitchell and Tamarine walked over to the bar as Mitchell instructed whoever was there to get up. After a pause, an Asari and a Quarian stood up behind the counter. They walked around the bar to them.

"You heard our distress call?" asked the Quarian.

"Yes," responded Donn as he hurried over to them, "Lieutenant Donn'Reeger vas _Homestead_. This is our squad leader, Captain Mitchell."

"A Reeger and a Terran. We got lucky," said the Asari as she exhaled in relief.

"And who are you?" asked Mitchell.

The Quarian responded, "She is my contract broker."

"Contract broker? What's that?" asked Mitchell.

Donn replied, "She brokers the contracts for indentured servants. Indentured servitude is legal here on Illium."

Mitchell quickly raised his rifle, the rest of the human squad quickly raising theirs with him, aiming at the Asari broker. The Asari quickly jumped back behind the bar as Donn grabbed Mitchell's rifle, forcing him to lower it.

"By the ancestors, what are you doing?" asked Donn as he let go of the rifle.

"Indentured servant broker my ass, she's a damn slaver!"

He looked to Mitchell, then the rest of them, "And that constitutes summary execution?"

"I slaughtered half of the Hegemony government on a damn whim! Here, I have justification!"

"It's nothing like slavery," said the Quarian. "If she didn't pay my debt, I could be in debtors' prison or some executive could have me killed."

Donn quickly tried to bury the issue. He feared the moniker 'Butcher of Torfan' would actually come out, "Captain Mitchell, we can debate the morality of this another time. We need to get going."

Mitchell thought of it for a moment, before calling his squad off, "Damn it, fine. Tamarine, what's our next objective?"

"We need to secure the skycar lot from the raiders so Alpha and Delta squad can land and secure the skyscraper. They are our evac as well."

"Ok then. Radio them in, Lieutenant. Squad, check your gear and head out."

The Asari poked back out from the bar counter, "What about us? We can't stay here?"

Mitchell thought about it for a moment, looking at them. He reloaded his rifle, "Fine then. Stay low and follow us, we can evacuate you on one of Alpha's shuttles. When you're safe, she's free, understood?"

"Yes, yes! I'll rip up her contract."

"Good. Matriarch, we must move. Are you still fit?"

"Fit? I held this damn bar from over 30 hours. The only difference between that and overtime is I'm not getting paid."

"I'll take that as a yes. Lima, move out!"

* * *

 **Part 6:**

 **The Hero and the Butcher  
Nos Astra Exchange Transit  
July 4, 2167 08:10:00 UTC**

As Alpha squad and the shuttle _Virgil_ approached the skycar lot of the Nos Astra Stock Exchange's taxi port, Lima squad arrived at the landing zone and engaged the raiders. The shuttle flew over and the squad opened up the hatch, firing at the raiders as they were pushed to the edge by Lima.

After they took out the last raider on the lot, the shuttle landed, allowing Alpha to depart as they hurried to take point for Lima. Lima regrouped with them as they brought over the civilians they had rescued earlier to the shuttle. As Mitchell helped them aboard, he noticed Jenkins as he got off.

"Sergeant Jenkins. I didn't expect to see you here!" he said, pleasantly surprised.

They shook hands. "Likewise to you too, sir. They made you a captain, huh?"

He gave a light chuckle, "Yah… they did." He became a bit stoic as he looked down at his chest plate.

"After taking out the Hegemony Chairman, you've earned that symbol, _Captain_ Mitchell." From the cockpit of the shuttle, Roosa overheard.

"If that's what they think… I'll have to live up to it then," Mitchell looked up, seeing Roosa stepping out of the cockpit.

"Dear God, Mitchell?"

He opened his eyes wide, smiling with amazement, "Holy crap! Roosa? Is that you? I didn't think they'd actually send the _Hero of Elysium_ over here. Have you been taking good care of Jenkins?"

"What the hell are you doing here? I'd heard they sent you to a damn tribunal!"

Mitchell grinned and laughed a bit, "They 'awarded' me with this!" He pointed at his chest plate and the red 'N7' symbol stamped on it, "Not as flashy as your 'Star of Terra', but it'll—"

Before he could finish, Roosa jumped out of the shuttle and tackled him onto the skycar lot balcony. As they both got back up, Roosa proceeded to punch him several times across the face before Mitchell kinetically shoved him off of him. They both stood there, as Mitchell wiped the blood from his mouth.

"Damn Roosa. You still angry over what happen back on Earth?" he asked, chuckling afterwards as he spit some blood out.

Roosa began to walk towards him, but Jenkins and Donn quickly held him back. He looked to Jenkins.

"Jenkins, how the hell do you know him?" asked Roosa as he struggled to get free.

"I was transferred to his squad during the war. After what happen on Torfan, I was transferred back to the _Kitty Hawk_ ," replied Jenkins.

"Damn you Mitchell, you could have gotten one of my men killed! I don't know why they even allow the _Butcher of Torfan_ to lead another squad."

Mitchell quickly ran up and punched him across the face. Jenkins and Donn stepped out of the way as Roosa fell back. "Don't you call me the Butcher of Torfan!"

Roosa quickly got back up and threw an upper jab at Mitchell, "People died because of you! The Butcher of Torfan, the Butcher of Alameda! Why they let you graduate from the academy is beyond me!"

Mitchell blocked Roosa's punches, countering it with his own to the jaw. But Roosa quickly dodged his next, sliding parallel to his arm and elbowed him in the face. Mitchell stumbled back a bit, both of them wiping the blood off their faces.

"It was your own damn fault why I had to lead those squad of cadets! It was all to save you."

Mitchell launched a couple of jabs, which Roosa quickly dodged. "It was your fault I got mixed up with those damn street thugs you used to be with." Mitchell landed a solid one to Roosa's stomach. He walked back, cringing in pain.

"Well I'm sorry I was some damn street urchin while you were a high class spacer with a family!"

As they continued fighting, another group of raiders entered the port, guns blazing as the two squads rushed to cover and fought back, the shuttle quickly leaving. Around them, the raiders from the other parts of the exchange converged, ready to drive the Terrans out and over. But the Hero and the Butcher paid them no mind.

Behind the Terran line, Roosa ran back in, tackling Mitchell to the ground. Mitchell this time threw a shockwave, launching Roosa off of him. As he lay on the floor, Mitchell quickly got back up, charging at him as he readied a Nova punch. But Roosa took note and rolled back up to one knee. He raised his watch and quickly deploying a solid holo-shield. Mitchell leapt up and punched down onto the shield; the combined energy from the kinetic punch and the feedback from the shield created an explosion, knocking both of them back to opposite sides of the lot. The Marines took cover from the blast, the bright flash halting the raiders' advancement. As Roosa and Mitchell lay there, Jenkins and Tamerine rallied their squads to finish off the rest of them.

Mitchell regained his senses first, standing back up first as he brushed off debris from his armor and hair. Looking down at the other end of the port, Roosa did the same, staring him down, eyes locked with rage. One raider charged up at Mitchell. He responded by simply holding his fist at him, confusing the raider for a moment as he stood next to him, before he was suddenly impaled on Mitchell's omni-blade. At the other end, a raider also charged at Roosa. This time, Roosa quickly and elegantly disabled the raider, a precision kick to his leg, then a punch to his chest, before catching the falling raider. Roosa then grabbed onto his face with his hand, before activating his watch. He held him still as he burned his facemask, then his face clean off.

They both yelled out and began running at each other, omni-blade and flaming hand at the ready. But as they came to close to clashing at the center of the lot, they both heard a shout from the edge of the port.

"Hey!"

Everyone looked out to the skyline, seeing another shuttle quickly landing as the first shuttle took off. Its hatch was already open, as the commanding officer hung on to a side rail while the shuttle slowly landed. Once the shuttle touched the ground, Delta squad departed and took point, their commander the last to get off. He ran towards Roosa and Mitchell, removing his helmet as both of them saluted him.

"Commander, sir!" said both men, standing at attention.

"What the hell is going on over here?" yelled Anderson, as he threw his helmet to the ground in utter frustration. "Half of the damn invasion force can see you two fighting each other!"

"Sir! I assume all responsibility for this unjustifiable brawl," answered Mitchell.

Roosa quickly countered. "No, sir. This was my fault. I was the one who attacked Captain Mitchell, sir."

"Sir, I dispute the Lieutenant Commander's claim. I was the one who provoked him."

"I don't care. You're both done! Now get your candy-asses on the shuttle. Now!"

Roosa and Mitchell saluted Anderson before climbing on board the shuttle, avoiding looking at each other. He ordered his second in command to lead the squad on ahead. He looked on to Lima squad, now without their leading officer.

"Who's the highest ranking officer here?" asked Anderson.

Tamerine responded, "Lieutenant First Class Tamerine, sir!"

"You're now leading Lima. Your evac is gone. Secure the building with Delta." He pointed over to Jenkins, "Sergeant, take Alpha and take point for them."

"Yes, sir. Squad, move out!"

The two squads left, following Delta as they left. Anderson climbed aboard the shuttle, directing the pilot to head directly for the _Marie Cooper_.

* * *

 **Part 7:**

 **President Bowman and Commander Anderson - FSS _Sagan's Voyage_  
End of the Fourth Day of Diplomatic Contact and Liberty Day  
July 4, 2167 18:00:00 UTC**

"I think you'll look good in charcoal," said D'gona on the main screen in Bowman's quarters.

"I don't know Dorsi, a traditional look would seem more appropriate, a light black maybe…" said Bowman as he went through a small closet overlooked by the screen. "What tie should I wear?"

She giggled a bit, "Navy blue suits you best. Just like your old uniform."

He stopped and looked up, thinking about his time, "I haven't worn that thing in years. It was good to be a captain. Things get complicated when you're an admiral."

"Have you ever considered returning to duty after you're done with your presidency? You're only seventy."

Bowman grabbed some ties, comparing them. "I don't know. Thirty years ago, reaching your sixties was when you traditionally retired to elder life. I'm still considered to be in my 'youth'... I'm older than my father."

"I still find it amazing how your race tries to push its age limit. An Asari isn't considered a mature adult till early hundreds."

"We grow older and older, and at the same time we mature faster and faster. Each generation is eager to take on the galaxy earlier and earlier… What about this tie?"

Off screen, Bowman's beagle climbed up on Dorsi's lap, barking into the camera on her end.

"I think Aldrin here likes it," she said, giggling some more, "So it was some young irrational man who saved me then?"

"They wanted the son of the inventor of the modern hyperdrive to captain their first hyperdrive ship. Before I knew it, they made me a commander and threw me into space."

"So I can thank your race's rush into space for my rescue?"

"You could thank the fact we, in our infinite impatience, go out to thrust greatness onto ourselves rather than wait for it. The Council will certainly say so when I meet them today." He picked up a tie and held it over to the screen, "How about this?"

Aldrin growled at the tie, then started barking. D'gona quickly shushed at him, scratching the back of his ear to calm him down. She had taken a liking to the canine, as loyal and aggressive as a Varen, but much softer to handle. Bowman took the cue it wasn't right. As he grabbed another, an alert appeared on his desk's computer. He checked it, seeing it was an urgent message from Admiral Venezuela.

"I'm sorry Dorsi, but the nation calls. We still good for next week?" said Bowman as he skimmed the initial report.

"Of course, dear. Say goodbye, Aldrin."

He barked, Bowman saying his farewell, "And remember, no cheese for him."

Bowman said goodbye and turned off the screen. He dimmed the room as he activated the holo projectors, taking a seat at his desk. A comm link was quickly established as Fleet Admiral Venezuela appeared in front of his desk.

"Mr. President!" she said, saluting him.

He stood up to salute her, before sitting back down, "Admiral. Your report?"

"The raider fleet and their ground invasion has been completely neutralized, sir. Illium is completely under our control."

He nodded, "Good work, Admiral. Though I already read your report a few hours ago. Is there a reason to why you wished to direct this to me personally?"

"Sir, I feel I must bring to your attention a disciplinary hearing involving a fight between two soldiers during the liberation of Illium."

"My apologies, Admiral, but I don't see why that should head directly up to me."

"Well sir, the incident was between two rather high profile individuals. Navy Lieutenant Commander Perseus Roosa and Marine Captain Reginald Mitchell."

Those names suddenly registered in his mind and he rushed to pick up a tablet on his desk to read more about it, "The _Hero_ and the _Butcher_? That isn't good. Thank you for bringing that to my attention. We can't risk having them publicly disgraced with a court martial."

"Excuse me, sir, but standard procedure is to do just that."

"Roosa is why the recruitment lines are long, and Mitchell is why every rebel and captured leader fears our military. This war was won in the propaganda room as much as on the battlefield. It is as political as it is strategic."

She nodded, "Yes, sir. Understood."

"Who reported this incident anyway?"

"N7 Commander David Anderson. Admiral Hackett sent him and his N7 squad my way to join the assault."

Bowman checked his tablet, giving Anderson's profile a quick look. He had wondered on occasion what happened to President Anderson's family, who avoided politics and any affiliation after the formation of the Federation.

"Ah yes. Distinguished service in the Marines, first of the N7 Marine special forces. Recommended for promotion by three of his former captains, four of his former Marine commanding officers, and Admiral Hackett himself after the raid… Yes, that can work."

"Excuse me, sir?"

"Thank you Admiral for bringing this to my attention. Could you please connect me directly with our 'VIPs' and Anderson?"

She nodded in acknowledgement, "Of course sir, patching you in now."

Her hologram disappeared as the signal was transferred to Anderson's quarters, and Roosa's and Mitchell's cells. Anderson was the first to appear, saluting the President. The others then appeared, both sitting in their respective cells. They quickly stood up, saluting the President as well.

"Ok then," said Bowman as he leaned back on his desk, "what the hell is going on?"

Anderson responded, "Sir, these two were supposed to secure a landing zone for my squad to land and begin our mission. When my shuttle arrived, these two were fighting each other, during the middle of a firefight with the raiders. There was blatant usage of Mitchell's kinetics and Roosa's military gear."

Bowman glanced at the report on his tablet, then turned back to him, "I see. What do you know about how the fight started?"

"After a relief force retrieved Alpha and Lima squad, I interviewed each member of the squads. Lieutenant Commander Roosa was the one who started the fight."

Roosa acknowledge, "Sir, I accept full responsibility of the incident."

Mitchel spoke out, "No sir, I was the one who belligerently provoked Roosa. This incident was my fault."

Bowman shouted out, "Quiet, both of you! I'm perfectly aware of the history between the two of you. It's clear neither of you has left behind nor learned from the incident back at the Naval Academy."

Both of them remained silent, the memory of their past incident consuming them. Bowman turned to Anderson, waving the tablet.

"Commander Anderson, before I deal with them, I did a review of your own records. They are quite impressive," he said with a mild smile.

"Thank you, sir. It was all part of the service."

"Unlike these two here, it is what I expect from a man like you. Which is why I'm going to follow up on all those recommendations from your former commanders." Bowman typed on the tablet, sending his orders into the system. A moment later, an alert appeared on Anderson's watch. "Congratulations on your promotion, _Captain_. I'm giving you command of your own ship."

Anderson stood there, shocked over the news. Roosa and Mitchell were also taken aback by surprise by the personal promotion by the President himself. Anderson murmured before finally saying something audible.

"Uh…" he saluted Bowman again, "Thank you, Mr. President!"

"Not just yet. Unfortunately, this promotion comes with strings attached." Bowman placed the tablet down and turned to the others, "Roosa, Mitchell. I won't sugar coat it. You two have just enough of a public presence that sending you to a court martial wouldn't end well for anyone. To that end, I'm pardoning the charges from your disciplinary hearing."

Both of them saluted Bowman, "Thank you, sir."

Bowman simply nodded, "But this doesn't mean you get off easy. Captain Anderson is now your commanding officer."

"Wait… I have to work with Mitchell?" asked Roosa.

Bowman reached over to his tablet and pressed a single button, "Yes, _Lieutenant_. Effective immediately, you have been both demoted to the rank of lieutenant. Roosa, you are now Anderson's science officer. Mitchell, you are now his security officer."

Mitchell spoke out, "Pardon sir, but that is a naval position."

"It is," replied Bowman, without a change to his tone, "You have now been transferred to the Navy. And you can thank Admiral Roland, because his initial decision is the only reason I'm letting you keep that N7 logo on your chest."

Mitchell's face dropped, stunned in utter disbelief as he dropped to his knees.

"I'm… no longer... a Marine…" he dropped his head and murmured, "I'd rather be executed."

"You're not getting out of the Navy that easy," replied Bowman, "And you, Roosa. Since you were the one who started this fight, you're going to have to explain to your well-decorated parents, why their son is no longer going to receive the Star of Terra!"

Roosa took a step back, equally as shocked by the news as Mitchell had been, if not a bit more horrified by the prospects of what Bowman said.

"I'm a dead man walking…"

Bowman turned back and reached for his keyboard to end the call for the two lieutenants. "I'll leave the two of you to think about what you've done. But in the end, you had better learn to work together."

"And if they don't?" asked Anderson.

"If it kills them, it kills them…"

Bowman cut the line and turned back to Anderson.

"Before I let you go, as one officer to another, I do wish to offer you my sincerest congratulations. It's a promotion long in the making."

Anderson exhaled, trying to keep calm, "Thank you, sir."

Bowman chuckled, "To be honest, I still remember meeting you for the first time, at the inauguration ball for President Lin. You were a small boy then."

The mention of anything directly relating to his grandfather was a bit unnerving. "That was quite a long time ago."

"Yes it was… seeing you here now. Your grandfather would've been proud to see his own grandson become one of Terra's finest."

Anderson delayed in responding. He finally mustered a response, "That would make one of us."

Bowman simply nodded, realizing he might have struck a nerve. "Anderson, arrange passage back to Earth. Your new ship is the _FSS Tokyo_ , LCCC-1603D. You will be serving under the Sixth Fleet under Admiral Vali's command."

Anderson nodded to him, "Of course. Thank you, sir. Good to hear the Admiral has recovered. I heard rumors saying that Admiral Vali was dead."

Bowman chuckled as he stood up, walking over to sit at his desk as he picked up a tie, "Well, you know how rumors are. Those 'reports' of his death… were greatly exaggerated."

* * *

 _Terran Wikipedia_

 _ **Public Holidays in the United Terran Federation: Section: National Holidays**_

 _National holidays are approved through legislation by the Congress. These holidays correspond with important cultural events. They are known as 'paid holidays' and see the closing of most federal buildings and facilities not tied to military or emergency services. Currently, each holiday that has cultural value is under supervision of a national celebration either by the Department of Labor, Department of Civilian Recreations, Department of Internal Affairs, Department of Religious Affairs, or the Federal Communication Committee._

 _ **Date:**_ _January 1_ _ **  
Official Name: New Year's Day  
% of Terrans Celebrating: **__85%_ _ **  
% of Paid Time Off:**_ _97%_

 _Remark: Celebrates the beginning of the United Terran Coordinate calendar year. Festivities include counting down to 12:00 midnight on the preceding night, New Year's Eve, often with a fireworks display and party. On orbital platforms and starships, United Terran Coordinate time is used. Colonies will use UTC if the days are too abnormal. Earth time colonies will celebrate with their closest local time zone linked to UTC._

 _ **Date:**_ _Third Monday of January_ _ **  
Official Name: Equality Day  
% of Terrans Celebrating: **__75%_ _ **  
% of Paid Time Off:**_ _77%_

 _Remark: Under the Department of Internal Affairs, this holiday is an evolution from the American holiday of 'Martin Luther King Jr. Day'. It celebrates the political and cultural equality of all Terran citizens and the work done by those of the past that assisted in reaching this goal. Towns and cities across Earth and the major colonies hold celebrations and parades in honor of workers of the Equal Rights Movements from the past and present. This holiday is also known as the first major civilian volunteer call to service of the year._

 _ **Date:**_ _First Sunday of February_ _ **  
Official Name: Super Bowl Sunday  
% of Terrans Celebrating: **__40%_ _ **  
% of Paid Time Off:**_ _40%_

 _Remark: Under the Department of Civilian Recreations. Originally an unofficial holiday for the National American Football League championship game, it was made into an official holiday when the Federation government nationalized all professional sports leagues in 2134. Celebrated with the watching of the NAFL Super Bowl game. This day foresees the largest consumption of chicken wings and cheap beer of the year. Was canceled in 2148 and 2149 during the unrest of the Great Revival. Since 2150, all Super Bowl games are broadcasted at 23:30 UTC._

 _ **Date:**_ _February 14_ _ **  
Official Name: Valentine's Day  
% of Terrans Celebrating: **__86%_ _ **  
% of Paid Time Off:**_ _34%_

 _Remark: Under the Department of Religious Affairs. Was turned into a national holiday by Congress in 2150. A holiday of religious origins in the Christian faith, the holiday now serves as a secular holiday, where romantic couples showcase their romantic interest to a partner. It accounts for 68% of all flower sales and 34% of all chocolate sales of the year. Via regulations by the Department of Religious Affairs, over the counter contraception is given a 200% reproduction tax for the month of February in order to promote increased birth rates for the year. This tax does not apply on Earth and Eden Prime due to population curving from the Species Preservation Act._

 _ **Date:**_ _April 22_ _ **  
Official Name: Uplifting Day  
% of Terrans Celebrating: **__37%_ _ **  
% of Paid Time Off:**_ _97%_

 _Remark: Under the Department of Internal Affairs and the Federal Communications Committee. Was made a national holiday by Congress in the same legislation as Valentine's Day in 2150. It marks the official end of the Great Revival on Earth. By law, all businesses not directly linked to emergency services or transportation are closed for the day. This holiday is used to remember those who died bringing order to the human home world. It is the first of three 'Memorial Days' of the calendar year._

 _ **Date:**_ _May 1_ _ **  
Official Name: Worker's Day  
% of Terrans Celebrating: **__89%_ _ **  
% of Paid Time Off:**_ _90%_

 _Remark: Under the Department of Labor. Also known as Labor Day or International Day. This holiday celebrates the rights and the contribution of the workers throughout Terran history. It is celebrated with major parades across the Federation. All businesses not considered legally 'small' must give paid leave or pay double wages and a 10% additional tax for having workers during this day._

 _ **Date:**_ _June 1_ _ **  
Official Name: Unification Day  
% of Terrans Celebrating: **__85%_ _ **  
% of Paid Time Off:**_ _67%_

 _Remark: Under the Department of Internal Affairs and the Federal Communications Committee. The first national holiday of the Federation, passed as one of the first acts of legislation in 2125. Celebrates the full unification of Humanity under one central government with the signing of the Constitution of the United Terran Federation. It is marked with parades, picnics, outdoor events, and fireworks. Also known as Unity Day, by a recent passing of Congress, the holiday will now mark First Contact with alien life and celebrate the entrance of alien races into the Federation._

 _ **Date:**_ _July 4_ _ **  
Official Name: Liberty Day  
% of Terrans Celebrating: **__54%_ _ **  
% of Paid Time Off:**_ _41%_

 _Remark: Under the Department of Internal Affairs and the Federal Communication Committee. A holiday of American origin, it celebrates the freedom and liberty of the Terran people and the history of its emergence in human history. It is celebrated with some commotion on a few colonies, but is met with far greater festivities on former American colonies and on Earth in the USNA than on Unification Day. This holiday was formally known as 'American Independence Day', but after numerous remote colonies declared independence from the UTF on this day, the name was changed to curtail rebellions. It was at the insistence of many American politicians that the name was changed._

 _ **Date:**_ _First Sunday of August_ _ **  
Official Name: Championship Sunday  
% of Terrans Celebrating: **__75%_ _ **  
% of Paid Time Off:**_ _29%_

 _Remark: Under the Department of Civilian Recreations. First celebrated in 2137 with the formalization of the National Intra-Galactic Football League. The NIFL Championship Game for Intergalactic Football is played on this day. The formation of the league and the day was in response to the far larger non-American Terran population complaining about the formation of a holiday for a still mainly American cultured sport. This day sees the largest consumption of hummus of the year. Was canceled in 2148 and 2149 during the unrest of the Great Revival. Since 2150, all League Championship game is broadcasted at 12:00 UTC._

 _ **Date:**_ _Last Tuesday before Resiliency Day_ _ **  
Official Name: Voting Day  
% of Terrans Celebrating: **__99%_ _ **  
% of Paid Time Off:**_ _80%_

 _Remark: Under the Department of Internal Affairs, Department of Religious Affairs, and the Federal Communication Committee. Occurs on the last Tuesday in September after Resiliency Day. It is the main Federal Election Day; with Voting being mandatory in the Federation. Under surveillance by the Federal Communication Committee, everyone eligible to vote does vote. By order of the Department of Religious Affairs, no religious affiliation can be used to excuse one from voting. By order of the Department of Internal Affairs, not voting is a misdemeanor and can be upgraded to a felony on a case-by-case basis. Only physical and mental impairment can excuse one from election. The Department of Internal Affairs and the Federal Communication Committee ensure no public unrest during this day. All private employers must guarantee that their employees have time to vote, which is paid._

 _ **Date:**_ _September 11_ _ **  
Official Name: Resiliency Day  
% of Terrans Celebrating: **__68%_ _ **  
% of Paid Time Off:**_ _32%_

 _Remark: Under the Department of Internal Affairs, Department of Religious Affairs, and the Federal Communication Committee. This was originally a USNA holiday created in 2060 to commemorate the 'resiliency' of the Americans during the Great Decay, a time of political, economic, and social upheaval that began with the September 11 terrorist attacks in 2001 and ended with the Second American Civil War between 2041 to 2048, before the US rose back to power to lead Earth into the Atomic Revolution._

 _After the Great Revival, this day was made a Terran national holiday in 2150. On Earth and the colonies, this day commemorates the loss of lives from the Revival and celebrates the continuing perseverance and 'resiliency' of the Terran people through hardship and threats both domestic and foreign. This is the second 'Memorial Day' in the calendar year._

 _On the federal level, the start of a new Federal government after the election was moved from the third Monday of September to Resiliency Day. The new congress will convene on this day, though normally only for ceremony purposes in the morning. During Presidential election years, the President's inauguration is held on this day in the afternoon at the capital._

 _ **Date:**_ _October 24_ _ **  
Official Name: United Earth Day  
% of Terrans Celebrating: **__10%_ _ **  
% of Paid Time Off:**_ _2%_

 _Remark: Under the Department of Internal Affairs. Celebrates the official unification of Humanity on the home world with the passing of the United Earth Charter in 2115. After the Great Revival, this also celebrates the official declaration of World Peace on Earth. This day was formerly 'United Nations Day', marking both the formation of the United Nations in 1946 and the reformation of the United Nations in 2055. Like the holiday it came from, many people are unaware this is a National holiday._

 _ **Date:**_ _November 11_ _ **  
Official Name: Veteran's Day  
% of Terrans Celebrating: **__62%_ _ **  
% of Paid Time Off:**_ _65%_

 _Remarks: Under the Department of Internal Affairs. The last holiday of North American origins; this holiday celebrates the men and women that currently and previously served in the Armed Forces of the United Terran Federation. This day is also known as 'Armistice Day' or 'Remembrance Day', used by many groups to call for the end of all wars and conflicts. This is also the third and final 'Memorial Day' in the calendar year._

 _ **Date:**_ _December 1-31_ _ **  
Official Name: Holiday Month  
% of Terrans Celebrating: **__90% (Throughout)_ _ **  
% of Paid Time Off:**_ _75%(Throughout)_

 _Remark: Under the Department of Internal Affairs and the Department of Religious Affairs. Originally, the month of December contained the holidays of Christmas, Hanukkah, and New Year's Eve. After the Great Revival, in an attempt to create better religious harmony, the main holidays for the Abrahamic religions were all grouped together in this month. This led to the creation of a government official 8-day 'Hanukkah Week' from December 8-15, a full 7-day 'Christmas Week' from December 22-28, while the lunar year tradition of Ramadan was moved to occur the entire month of December._

 _This arrangement has met heavy criticism and protest from both religious and secular groups since it was approved in 2151. Secular groups have argued that approving these holidays violates the Constitution since it is written, "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof..." Many religious organizations from the Jewish, Christian, and Muslim communities have also voiced steep protest; since the establishment of the holidays legally forces followers to obey those dates, while systematically making illegal any other date of worship, arguing a case of 'political correctness gone mad'._

 _In spite of this, there is currently,_ _ _among the younger generations,_ a larger and growing movement to create a 'Thanksgiving' day on the first Thursday of December._

 _Last Edited 7 October 2167 15:37 UTC_

* * *

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Hey Everyone!  
Thanks for reading!  
I hope you all have a very Merry Christmas and a lovely Happy Holidays!  
And for my fellow students, enjoy the winter break!  
(Especially if you're on the semester system and got a whole month off!)

Before I sign off for my winter break,  
It is only fair, at the least, to give a shout out  
to a fellow writer and friend of mine, **Apollonir**!

We been in talking the past few months,  
exchanging ideas and topics as we read each others story.  
He got a great Mass Effect story out right now, _The Iron Heart of Man_.

As the King of Rock 'n' Roll once said, if your looking for  
"A little less conversation, a little more action please!"  
You'll get a great read from his story as well.

Oh and don't forget!  
I set up a poll on my profile page.  
I plan to begin working on a new writing project during the break,  
And I would love to know your opinion on the next story I should do.

Results of it will be released at the end of January.  
Don't worry, I plan and hope very much to write both!

Till than, and as always,

Thank you all for reading,  
Be sure to keep on following,  
There's more coming up!

And always feel free to review.  
If you got feedback, comments, or concerns,  
let me know.  
I'm always looking for feedback and always aim to improve!

If you have any questions,  
Go ahead and review or PM me.  
I'd be glad to answer them.

And don't have a 'Blue Christmas' now,  
Be happy and live it out!

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\


	26. 25: We will Go Far

**Chapter Twenty-Five: We will go Far!**

* * *

 **Part 1:**

 **The Terrans and the Council - Citadel Chamber  
Fifth Day of Diplomatic Talks  
July 5, 2167 08:00:00 UTC**

The next day began, and the news of the liberation of Illium had spread across the galaxy. No damaged buoy or any censorship could stop the news of the Terrans' actions from spreading. From relay to relay, planet to planet; across the galaxy, from the seediest bars of Omega to the shipyards of Mars, the Terrans were once more on everyone's mind.

In Council space, the news sources were in abuzz of the news, sending reporters on the quickest, and most well defended ships to Illium to report on the miracle on the Terminus border. Some were shocked by the Terrans' move, some were more worried of what it meant.

' _Terrans Save Illium; Council Remains Equally Paralyzed!_ '  
Citadel News Network

' _The Primarch was Distracted, so The President Reacted!  
Terran Fleet Drives Raiders Out!'_  
Palaven Military News

' _Illium Rescued! The Price? A Seat on the Council!'_  
Irune Daily Buoy

' _Terran 'Aircraft Carrier' Saves Illium; Dreadnoughts Obsolete?'  
_ Talat Daily Fly

' _Illium Under Terran Control; Thessia Next?_ '  
Armali Messenger

The same was now reaching Terran space. With connected information being released to the Terran masses from the government, and special established links to Council news sources to Terran ones, news of the liberation spread like a sudden wildfire. It was clearly celebratory, with everyone knowing what would happen next.

' _Helen of Illium: Terran 4_ _th_ _Fleet Liberates Alien World!_ '  
The New York Times

' _Bowman Tightens Noose Around Council's Neck!_ _Illium Today, The Citadel Tomorrow!'  
_ British Broadcasting Corporation: Terra

' _Big Damn Heroes: Navy Saves Alien World from Raiders!'  
_ National Broadcasting Channel: Terra

' _Valenzuela's Personal Blitz! Skies of Illium Belong to the Famed 'Sky Rebel'!'_  
Mexico City Reforma

' _Council Seat Imminent! President Bowman Bails Citadel Council Out!_ '  
The Terra Nova Scott Daily QEC

The Federation's diplomatic convoy made its way through the docks, surrounded by guards as the news reporters swarmed them. As they approached the elevator, Spectre agents standing guard, a few reporters managed to squeeze in through, trying to ask Bowman questions.

"President Bowman, are the reports true that Illium has been fully liberated?"

He continued walking towards the elevator. He responded back, smiling as the reporters came up, "Yes, our forces have destroyed the raider fleet! Illium is in civilized hands."

Another reporter from the other side managed to squeeze in to ask a question, "Is it true that most of the main fighting forces were not your distinctive dreadnoughts, but ships carrying nothing but spacecraft fighters?"

"Our aircraft carriers are the true military might and backbone of the Terran Navy. Our ships that the Council considers dreadnoughts pale in comparison to them. The raiders found that out the hard way."

Another reporter to his right managed to squeeze in to ask a question, "In a conversation with a private Terran citizen, it was mentioned the United Federation has over seventy-five thousand ships in your fleet. Is this number true and does it include the combined Quarian and Batarian fleets?"

"The Terran Navy has over seventy-five thousand ships capable of war. Yes, we do outnumber the combined Asari, Salarian, and Turian fleets, and even the Migrant Fleet in its hay day. And as I speak, thousands more from the Quarians and Batarians are being retrofitted to Terran standards and many more are being built in the fleet yards across the Federation. You can trust what that particular individual said. He basically built every last ship himself."

As they approached the elevator, one more reporter managed to ask a question, "President Bowman, the entire political spectrum across the galaxy is in debate over your demand for a seat on the Council. Do you think the Citadel Council will accept your request?"

As everyone else boarded the elevator, Bowman turned around and smiled before answering, "Their fleet has been decimated, their markets thrown into chaos, they are defenseless and now stand on the verge of economic collapse. We are ready to help… if they give us the power to do so."

"And why do you want to help?"

He paused for a moment, then answered, "There's a saying in the Terran language." He took a step back into the elevator and opened his arms. " _We're from the Federation and we're here to help!_ "

He was the last one to step on the elevator, his guards quickly surrounded him as the door closed. It rushed up quickly, arriving at the main chamber of the Citadel tower.

"The nine most feared words in Terran language," Goyle chuckled to herself.

"We _are_ here to help."

"That's what they all say," replied Udina.

* * *

They all walked out, heading to the Council platform as they passed by several groups of diplomats, many trying to either get their races to send ships to Illium to find their own kind or trying to get in contact with their race's embassy on the planet. They stopped to look at the Terran convoy, the leaders of the saviors of Illium.

They walked up the staircase and took their place beneath the upper podium where the Councilors would stand. The Chamber was devoid of the same media attention than before. The Council wanted to have no surprise, but in the end, anything that would happen, the news would be quickly learned and spread like a chain reaction. The Terrans were a catalyst; the Council, the short fuse. After a short wait, the Council walked out, taking their place as they began the meeting. As they took position, Bowman gave a short nod as he looked over to Nerval. Nerval simply saw it and took his position.

"We shall now begin the third day of full negotiations between the Citadel Council and the United Terran Federation," said Tevos to officially begin.

Many of the diplomats, from races of minor status to the ambassadors of the Council races, walked over to the side to watch the meeting. There were far more now than ever before. Many came a few days ago at the Council's request to witness the Council offer the Terrans membership, and ended up witnessing their great demand. Now, more were here, simply compelled by the Terrans, to witness the Council take the only real option in front of them.

Bowman looked around to see the much larger crowd. He nodded and spoke, "Yes, let us begin. The Terran government wishes to bring up the status of our request for full membership onto the Citadel Council."

"Wouldn't it be more prudent to discuss your nation's assistance in saving the colony of Illium?" asked Tevos, hoping to buy time from answering Bowman's question.

He answered, looking at her first then to the diplomats on either side of him, "I do not see what else needs to be discussed. The Council has lost fleets in this devastating raid on Illium. During which the entire Citadel economy crashed at a rate not seen since the high point of the Krogan Rebellion. It is thanks to the interference from our fleets, our pristine and ever capable military, that we crushed the raiders and saved Illium."

"The Council, the Asari Republics, and every citizen of the planet of Illium offers their thanks to the Terran Federation for saving our people."

"For which, you are very welcome."

"But tell me this," said Sparatus. The sudden news of the Terran's 'generous' rescue of Illium had ruined his plans. He had been readying his race's ships for war, but the Terrans instead won the peace by doing the same. He wouldn't admit it, but he was now in the same position as Tevos and, so he thought, as Nerval. He was, by public appearance, at the Terrans' mercy. "Why did you save Illium?"

Bowman stared at him for a moment, before giving a sarcastic smile. "Why did we help you?" He turned around and opened his arms wide as he addressed everyone in the room. "The galaxy faces great dangers ahead. Dangers that alone we cannot dare hope to fight against. Look at Illium, fragile and defenseless. When action is needed, action must be done! The Council is well-aged, well experience, but it is old, no longer flexible and adaptive. We, the Federation, may be young, but we are agile, quick, and fresh. You have seen what we have done; you have seen what we can do, with your own eyes.

"The galaxy offers no mercy. It will have no mercy. You have fought wars that have driven that point home. We are wise enough to learn from other's pasts. Together, we must survive. We must survive together. We must prosper together."

Bowman received applause from the crowd as he turned back to the Councilors.

"And to that end, we wish to discuss state of our request for full membership into the Council! We must act fast in deciding the galaxy's future! We must act fast in _saving_ the galaxy's future!"

Tevos answered, not sure anymore how she could prevent it, "The granting of nothing less than a seat on the Citadel Council is a very significant topic."

"Yes," said Sparatus, simply following Tevos' lead, "The responsibility of being a member of the very Council itself is no small task. Each member must be able to contribute to the greater Citadel Council."

"This includes being able to bare the tremendous cost, and supply the needed finances to pay for the infrastructure and expansion of galactic society and order across the galaxy," continued Tevos.

"And to be able to supply the fleet, personnel, and materials needed to defend said objectives from whatever threat they face in the galaxy," said Sparatus.

Nerval finished off, speaking not just to remind Bowman of exactly what he would be involved in, "And to offer overall their own resources, talents, and lives to the galactic community. To serve a cause greater than even the one you have. We are in service to the galaxy. For a greater good! To which the Council and I ask you this question. Is the Federation, and more importantly, you the Terrans, ready to give and offer what they have for all of the galaxy?"

The hall remained quiet, waiting for Bowman to answer the Council. The inevitable was imminent, but how he answered would set the tone for years to come. Bowman had won the peace today, but he must now win the peace for when it would matter most. He adjusted his tie and dusted himself off before looking up to address the Council. He was ready to give his planned speech for this. He spoke with the tone of a Terran statesmen: strong, elegant, and cloaked to hide his real purpose. It was no different than being a captain, long, long ago. He felt like he was lying less, though.

"Many here today… including the Council itself, ask what we, the United Terran Federation, and really, what I and Humanity can offer, can commit, to this long lived government. The Council asks us this question. Not because they wish to stop us from joining, but they know from experience what kind of sacrifices are needed, are demanded, to be a Council member. Allow me to make clear on where the Terrans stand on the matter."

He turned to the crowd across the needed to win the galaxy, not the Councilors.

"From the earliest days that we stood as the rulers of our own home world, we learned, at great pain to ourselves, the mistakes that nearly drove our species to extinction. We know that those who are strong, who are capable, must be willing with their very lives defend and ensure the prosperity of all. It was those that were foolish, smug, and selfish that nearly doomed our race. But it is because of those who put reason before honor, selflessness over self, cooperation over pride that we are here, standing in front of you all as a galactic power. It is a lesson we learned so well. It is a lesson each generation of man has, must, and continues to learn time and time again. Our race was united by our willingness to coexist as one, and the Terran people were born not just to showcase simple survival, but prosperity through cooperation.

"It is this reason why I and every true human, here and back at home, has shed the name of our race for the name 'Terran'. It is why we are compelled to bring new races under our banner that unites and uplifts. To be Terran… is to be united. We know, all of us, that we must work together, for what danger this galaxy faces, we cannot stop it alone…"

He turned back to the Council.

"The Federation stands ready to do our part. We have shown we are able and willing to make the sacrifice to bring order to the galaxy. Together, as equals, there can be peace in the galaxy.

"As I speak, our fleets guard the border between us. As I speak, your economy is in disarray from a horrendous attack on one of the biggest markets in the galaxy. As I speak, many question if the Council alone can protect against the untamed areas of the galaxy. The attack on Illium being a clear sign of this!

"If you grant us a seat on the Council, then let these doubts be vanished from this chamber. Our fleets shall protect you, our economy shall rebuild you, and our spirit of the unified Terran people shall uplift you!

"If we are to survive, our loyalties must be broadened further, to include the whole galactic community, the entire Milky Way Galaxy! Together, we are safe. And unified, we can only prosper… and thrive!"

The hall remained silent, now in awe over Bowman's speech. The Council was also silent from his speech, now in judgement on whether to give the Terrans a place on the Council. They couldn't say no, but they did not know how to say yes. Sparatus looked away, appearing to be distracted by other things, but really, he still wasn't convinced of what motives the Terrans had in all this. Tevos remained still, trying to think of every possible short and long-term scenario of having them on the Council, or denying their request after what they had done. She wondered if she was really securing peace, or delaying a war.

But Nerval already knew what course of action had to be taken. He knew he was in agreement with what he was going to say, but he was still fascinated by the Terran's public explanation to joining the Council. Some intuition in him made him think the Terran meant what he said. But he was experienced enough to know all words have a double meaning, hidden objectives between each word. He then realized Bowman might not have needed to even say those words. It wasn't a final argument; it was more along the lines of a victory speech. But maybe he was trying to say something else, a hidden message in plain sight.

They all had to say yes. They had no more power, faith from the citizens of the galaxy to say no. He was the first domino for all the others to fall behind.

Nerval spoke out. "I, Councilor Nerval, find the Terrans' reasoning to joining most agreeable. The Citadel Council has nothing left to lose, and all the more to gain from having them. It is clear we have entered a new era in galactic history. Let us write it here, now!"

Tevos was surprised by her colleague's decision. There would be retaliation for what he just did, but she knew he cared not for any political punishment, and could more than handle any physical one. She followed up, now forced to sway to Nerval's stance as a follow up.

"I… agree. Contact with the Terrans has changed everything. And they are right in their beliefs. We cannot stand apart, not as it becomes clear the galaxy turn out to be ever more hostile. We need allies… we need friends. I vote in favor of their entry and to giving them a seat among us. Together as equals, this galaxy is safer."

Sparatus remained silent, crossing his arms as he looked down at Bowman. He saw Bowman staring straight back at him. Both had become skilled in the workings of politics, but what Sparatus lacked was the brutal stare of a man whom had seen worse. Bowman put his to use, making it all the more clear to Sparatus that his vote wouldn't change the rest of the Council. Humanity and the Terrans' finest stood there, over that small garden. But Sparatus was far from the best the Turians could have had at that podium. He gave in, turning to the other Councilors and wondering why they just agreed. He just wanted to end it.

"Yes, President Bowman's point is… quite clear. There is nothing left the Council can do in its current form. For what comes next in having them on the Council, let us all hope the galaxy… only benefits from it. They have my vote."

"Then it is settled. Councilor Tevos?" said Nerval to Tevos to finish the meeting.

She nodded, turning to the hall for everyone to hear. For the first time since the beginning, when the Terrans stepped foot on the Citadel, everyone gave their full attention to the Council. They were witnessing history. And only more of it would be written from that point on.

"Today marks a new era in the history of the modern galaxy. One that begs change, as it becomes all too clear that change is needed. With First Contact with the Terrans, we know now the galaxy is far more different than we ever knew. So today, we, the Citadel Council, shall grant the United Terran Federation, the Terran people, this great position of galactic power with a place on the Council itself."

Bowman spoke up, "And we accept this gracious gift! This immeasurable reasonability! And with the power we now hold, we shall ensure the safety, survival, and prosperity of the galaxy. Our security is yours. Our economy and wealth, we give to you. And our fleets and military, the guard against the unknown, we bestow onto the Citadel Council. To forever safe guard galactic civilization!"

The chamber was filled with applause as they celebrated the now monumental occasion. The Terrans now sat among the powers of the galaxy. As far as the rest could tell, they were the greatest of them all. As they cheered and continued to witness this historic moment, Bowman activated his watch, inputting a command into it, one that was quickly sent all the way back home. With a confirmation of order, he closed it, and gestured the Council to look out of the window and into the void around the Citadel.

"Our hands quick, and never idle…"

They turned around, and so did everyone else in the chamber, to look out on the massive viewport, waiting. A few seconds later, several Terran ships appeared from a fold. Then more appeared, quickly appearing by the hundreds around the Citadel. More kept appearing from the void, starting to block out the nebula.

The Council turned back, quickly opening their screens from their podium, seeing as thousands of ships surrounded the Citadel and filled the nebula, being viewed from numerous angles. They ranged from all sizes, from thousands of corvettes like the _William Clark_ to several Flagships like the _Thunder Child_. As the amount of ships appearing decreased, two large structures appeared from out of the transwarp fold. Two massive _Richmond_ class starbases appeared, slowly in tow by several frigates, making their way to flank each side of the Citadel, Terran guardians to the monument of the Protheans, though Bowman knew better. The chamber grew silent again as everyone viewed the thousands of ships outside.

The Council turned back to Bowman, who looked up, smiling.

"I hope you don't mind if our Fifth Fleet is stationed here. Who better to defend the heart of galactic civilization than the fleet that broke into it? Our First Fleet should already be over the Kypladon relay, safeguarding the heartlands of Asari space. And the Third Fleet should be relieving the Fourth Fleet over Illium, if I'm correct. The ships you rallied your fleets in defense against will now defend you."

The Council quickly checked the reports, patching into the stations and ships in those systems. They watched as nearly ten thousand ships simply appeared above them, with massive stations and supply lines appearing as well. All of them were aware of the Federation's special FTL, but they were shocked by how they deployed nearly thirty thousand ships deep into Council space with a simple command.

Nerval thought to himself as he looked through the screens. Bowman was right on how dangerous the Federation could be. If war broke out, they could strike the Council home worlds with ease. But it reminded him all the while, that as much of a threat the Federation could be, they could be an even greater, invaluable ally. They had so much to learn, but Nerval could tell it was what the Terrans wanted.

Bowman stood there, calm. He had just ensured the first part of his race's greatest gambit. His fleets had scared them. But more importantly, it had awed them. From awe, they would be inspired. A new race to catch up with, the tools of peace in place. The Terrans would ready the galaxy for war. And with it, he has already won the peace, for now.

"Our ships shall ensure a greater and safer galaxy. The Terran people shall aid all who need it."

As the chamber burst into a massive mix of celebration and heated conversation, the Councilors looked on, all of them awed, if not scared. Bowman turned back to his main two ambassadors standing with him. Dov'tok and Miri themselves were struck in awe and shock of what just happened as well. Goyle and Udina, however, were wondering what was to be their next move.

"Right. That's done… Udina!"

"Yes, Mr. President?"

"I'm appointing you as the new Terran Ambassador."

"Excuse me, sir?"

Goyle turned to Bowman, confused. "Mr. President?

Bowman turned to her, ready to leave, "Congratulations Goyle. You're now the Terran Councilor."

Goyle looked at him in surprise at the sudden promotion. Udina was also showing some sign of surprise, but he knew better, Goyle was the next one in line. Now he was next, and while willing, he would have to wait. Still, it would be better to see how Goyle did first.

"Huh… Yes, Mr. President. We'll begin immediately…" she looked up at her new colleagues, deducing their intentions. They were still in awe, but where that would go could be in any direction. "Orders?"

He turned back one last time, looking back up at them. He waited a bit as the Councilors looked at different screens, before they just accepted what had just happened and closed their screens, looking back to Bowman. They remained speechless, looking to him. Chuckling, he turned to Goyle and smiled.

"Weapons free, Councilor. Udina, make sure the Senate fast tracks this."

He addressed the Council one last time. He had had nearly all the words thus far. He might as well have the last one, too.

"Thank you Councilors for a very successful negotiation meeting. Shall our newfound unity and cooperation forever benefit the galaxy! On behalf of the Federation and myself, we wish you all a good day."

He turned around and walked away, directing the remaining ambassadors to follow him as he directed Goyle to meet the Council. The remaining diplomats left as well, a crowd following the convoy and asking them numerous questions and requests; now that they were a Council member, if not arguably the most powerful one.

The old Council looked back out into the void. Seeing the massive fleet that vastly outnumbered their own, at one point having failed to destroy a single one of them, they all simply realized that things really have changed. It was a new era, just as they said, but they didn't have a clue what awaited them. If anyone could stop the Terrans, even Nerval knew it wouldn't be them.

Goyle walked up to the balcony over the garden. She looked up, calling for the Council's attention. "My _fellow_ Councilors! Truly, today marks the beginning of something new…"

"In what way do you mean . . . _Councilor_ Goyle?" asked Tevos.

"You have built a truly marvelous galactic civilization… It is unfortunate that it was one doomed to fail, that it is wrong. But don't fret, for we, the Terran people, are here!"

"What!" yelled Sparatus.

"I dream of a better galaxy, a stronger galaxy, a galaxy… in order. As the Terran Councilor, we shall have just that… We shall save the galaxy!"

* * *

 **Part 2:**

 **Ambassador Miri'Ghirn and Admiral Marcus Junius  
FSS _Herodotus_ Cargo Bay  
July 5, 2167 12:00:00 UTC**

On board the FFS _Herodotus_ , which arrived with the Fifth Fleet, one of the cargo bays was empty, expect for a single Mark V torpedo casing. It did not house any antimatter or Terran ordinance, but it certainly wasn't empty. In the tradition that had been done since Humanity launched its great fleets into the stars, the honored dead were stored in these makeshift coffins. Once out of necessity, it was now a time-honored tradition, to honor those whom had given the ultimate sacrifice to explore the heavens and defend the milky shores of the Terran galaxy.

And this honor, they now extended to those from beyond those milky shores. The only light source was a single one, a spot light shining brightly on just that casing, the bay dark and pitch black. Admiral Junius looked down at the casing, his talon on it as he peered into a small window near the top front as he slid his talon down the titanium shell. There was another person in the room, staying in the dark, waiting and observing. Below the viewport, there was a young Turian forever at rest, a small plaque was stamped on the casing beneath the viewport. In Terran English and Turian Rometin, a name was engraved.

Reading it, he sighed.

"Spirits… Always one too many."

Junius looked over to his left when he heard a hatch open up. The other one in the room took note to continue to stay in the dark. It and Junius looked on in that direction until a new figure walked into the light. His eyes widened, just a bit, in surprise at who he was seeing. The figure walked up and crossed her arms as she stood across the casing from him.

She spoke, her tone unexpressive, "Keelah… so what they told me was true. You are alive."

He looked at her, his eyes locked to the white ones glowing behind her mask. He gave a small chuckle, "Yes, Miri. I still am…"

She immediately grabbed him by the collar of his new Terran Naval uniform and smashed his head onto the casket of the fallen Turian. She lifted her leg and grabbed her knife from her ankle, before holding it to his throat, the sharp blades brushing against his metal-flaked skin.

"You damn bosh'tet! Of all the people who died," Her voice started to break, "Out of everyone I have lost . . .You had to be alive!"

"Yes…" He struggled to breathe with the knife at his throat, "Yes I am. I am as surprised as you are."

Miri finally took her knife off his throat and shoved him back up. He checked his throat for a moment before looking back at her. She kept her blade ready, "I still remember hearing the news that you had died in that stupid war. Zaren and I celebrated…" She backed up a bit, "It was the last time we were happy together…"

"I was informed about what happen to Zaren, er, Admiral Vali," he said, thinking over his next words carefully, "My apologies."

"Don't pity me!" She took a step forward, holding her knife at him, "It must be a damn gift to you! You, freed from captivity, made an admiral by these insane humans in seconds. Then you learn that the man you had pursued your whole damn life is dead, days after the race he led finally found a home."

"Now that… isn't true…"

"Shut up, you damn bird! You have no right to be here! Zaren, me, our entire race suffered for decades because of you! What happened to me, to him, to ou- my son, and so many more, it was all your fault! You hurt them! You killed them all. Zaren, Kala, Naat…" She was struggling for air, overwhelmed with emotion and memories, "Dorin… You and all you damn Turians killed them!"

She grabbed him again and smashed his face against the casket again, his face pressed against the glass-like transparent aluminum viewport of the fallen Turian as she held one of his head spikes in her hand, and placed the knife at his throat, ready to bend and slash; Neither prospect the Turian male looked forward to.

"I should kill you! If… if we weren't on the same side, the damn bird in this casket wouldn't be the only one with spilled, treacherous, blue blood!"

"Do you know who this man is?" he struggled to ask.

"Who?"

"The one 'bird' that treated you with some respect."

She was confused, trying to remember for a moment. A name then crossed her mind. "Tibe?"

She shoved him off of the casket. As he checked his neck again, and massaged his head spikes, he replied, "Not quite."

They both bent over the casket and stared at the name plaque:

 _Private First Class_ _Drusus Fedorian_

 _17_ _th_ _Imperial Marine Division_

 _Turian Hierarchy_

"Drusus… Fedorian."

Junius took a deep breath and spoke, "He was a Marine, serving in his father's fleet. He was captured by retreating Hegemony forces, but fought with the others and joined the Terran assault to take Torfan." He looked at the viewport, "He died on that rock."

"Like a good Turian, right?" asked Miri mirthlessly. She was still bitter at Junius, but a little bit mournful for the father of the man in that shell. She knew what it was like to lose a life, one that didn't have to, and maybe arguably, shouldn't have fought someone else's battle.

"Unfortunately, like a good Turian…" he sighed, then asked her, "Do you wish to meet Tiberius, for old times sake?"

Miri paused for a moment, unsure of how to respond. Her memories of one of their few friends outside the fleet was well linked with those she had gone on Pilgrimage with, of a dear friend, and a former lover.

"I… don't think I should. For now." She holstered her knife in her ankle and placed her hand on the casing. For his father's sake, she mourned. "Rest in peace. Keelah se'lai."

* * *

 **Admiral Fedorian, Admiral Roland, President Bowman  
FSS _Herodotus_ Cargo Bay**

As they looked on, the doors behind them began to open. They took their cue and quickly exited out of the spotlight, hidden in the darkness. They walked away towards the hatch on the other side of the cargo bay. At the main hatch, Admiral Fedorian, with a full Terran escort of Marines, walked in, each one taking their place as a small walkway of lights turned on above them. The Turian was confused as he walked in, wondering who the other two leaving were, the second hatch opening and closing too quickly. He didn't recognize the taller one, but was sure the other one was a Quarian, maybe.

As he approached the casing, Admiral Roland and President Bowman followed behind, each pair of Marines saluting them as they walked by, before returning at ease. With the newly won peace, Fedorian was going to be returned home immediately. But there was one more task to deal with. Fedorian looked down, placing his talons on the casket as he read the plaque.

"Drusus... I'm so sorry."

Roland stood next to him, looking down at the casing, "I am truly sorry for your loss." He looked onto the casing as he sighed, "It scares me every day, especially knowing my own children are doing the same job."

"Yes… There is some peace now that he is no longer in danger. But it counts so little."

"In peace, sons bury their fathers. In war, fathers bury their sons. As much a fact as it is a tragedy," replied Roland.

Bowman responded, "And to that end, we wish to express, both our own and the Federation's, gratitude for your son's sacrifice in stopping a common enemy. Our own Marines informed us of how he fought bravely and that one of them owes his life to him. For what it's worth Admiral Fedorian, he is a hero."

"We send many sons and daughters out to battle. They are all heroes!" he said out loud, the Terrans simply looked on in quiet agreement. "But to be on this end personally… his death is a tragedy, and here I stand, the proof of that fact."

They gave him a moment to look at his fallen son. They were not sure how a man like him, raised in a society that trains to fight, defend and die for their cause, where 'The needs of the group outweigh that of the individual,' would act seeing his son here, forever at rest. But subtle, distinctive heavy breathing and the small sparkle from his eyes that reflected the light from above gave them an answer. No matter the race, a loss of those so close to them would always be hard. Roland would always fear it, Bowman knew well of it himself, and now Admiral Fedorian knew what that pain and loss was like.

Bowman reached for his coat pocket and took a small black tinted, metal case out, the emblem of the Terran Navy engraved in gold on it. He handed it Roland, nodding to him.

"Which is why we wish to give this to you. To make it clear, that we, the Federation, are forever in debt to your son's heroism."

Roland opened the small case and slowly lifted the item inside for him to see. Fedorian looked over at the case and what was inside. There, shining as bright as Trebia, was a silver five-pointed star that glimmered in the light. It had a gold outlining on the edge, with a small golden emblem of the United Federation in the middle. Under the emblem were three words, engraved on what looked like a banner of gold, ' _Honos, Virtus, Gentem'_.

Roland looked at him, "May I present to you, on your son's behalf, the Terran Silver Star. It is one of our highest military honor."

Fedorian was speechless, looking on at the award.

"Your son is the first true foreigner to receive this or any award," replied Bowman to the Admiral's shock, "I hope it shall serve as a symbol of peace and cooperation between our people for years to come."

Fedorian stared at it, moved and speechless. He looked up and stared at them for a moment. Roland handed it to him, and he placed the medal and its case gently on his son's casket, near his name. He stared at the medal, which he knew was possibly the only true merit his son would ever earn and receive.

"Ah-ten-tion!"

Roland yelled out the order, the row of lined up Marines quickly complied. From rest, they straightened up and faced each other as they saluted in unison. Roland then turned to Fedorian as he turned around and saluted the Turian admiral. Surprised by the show of respect, he saluted back, just as they did when they had first met. There were those subtle similarities he noticed as well, something the humans and his own race shared that would be in the back of his mind for decades to come. Roland placed his hand down and nodded to him, before he and Bowman took their leave. The Marines marched in formation, surrounding him and the casket, ready to deliver it.

Fedorian signaled for a pause. He moved closer and took the medal off. One more time, he looked at the name plaque, coming to terms, and stared once more into his son's still face. All the while, the remaining figure in the shadows finished observing and made a quiet exit.

* * *

 **Part 3:**

 **Miri and Bishop - FSS _Sagan's Voyage_  
July 5, 2167 11:00:00 UTC**

"Dragged into another damn operation…"

At the shuttle bay of the _Sagan's Voyage_ , Bishop waited as Miri's shuttle arrived and slowly landed on the designated landing pad. With the clear signal given, and the bay doors closing, he walked over and waited a few meters away from the shuttle's hatch.

They opened as he waited. The first off were a few Naval personnel, arriving to perform their new duties. Next was a pair of Marine guards, dressed in their regular operational uniforms. Seeing them, he turned as the ambassador finally stepped out and onto the platform. He took a step forward to greet her.

"Ambassador Ghirn! How glad to see you. I was meaning to have a word with you."

She sighed in exhaustion, "I am… tired. Can this wait?"

"Uh… no," he smiled nervously, not wanting to upset her, "President Bowman guaranteed me an audience. Besides, you'll enjoy this. Let's go."

"Ugh," she spoke under her breath, "Always another prazza to annoy me."

They left the bay and walked down the corridor of the still incomplete ship. Surrounding them, construction personnel were picking up where they had left off days ago. Now that the ship was in 'friendly' space over the Citadel, both private contractors and Naval builders rushed about the ship, finishing not simply decoration, but full on construction. In less used parts of the ship, the ship was truly incomplete; the metal bones and bulkheads of the ship were exposed as workers rushed to install wiring and piping, before they could install walls and computers.

"This has been a truly historic day, hasn't it, Ambassador?" asked Bishop, hoping to lighten the mood, knowing where she had just come from.

"It is amazing, Mr. Bishop," She decided to humor him and move it along, "Who would have thought a month ago your race would end up being a seat member of the Citadel Council?"

Bishop corrected her, "We, Ambassador Ghirn. The united Terran people are now in our rightful place as a galactic power. And hell, we did in a few days what my business partner's race has been trying to achieve for over two millennia."

"Well, I never thought I'd live to see my race re-enter the galactic community."

"We live in a new era, where the possibilities to do new things are endless. And I dare say, a time when we can… relive and make new our past for a better future."

The last line puzzled her, but she continued, "I still find the human drive so amazing. To achieve so much in such little time."

Bishop chuckled, sighing right after as he thought about it, "We have no idea what we're doing. I hope you're prepared for that."

They turned the corner, walking up to a sealed bay door with a special console on the wall next to it. Bishop was glad at least that part of the ship was complete.

"Here we are, the holosuite!"

Miri turned to him, wondering why the rich human had taken her to a holographic simulation room.

"Why did you bring me here? I'm not in the mood for some game or stupid adventure. Donnelly's attempt at getting me to role play the _War of the Worlds_ didn't warm me up to the idea."

"This isn't a little R&R, Ambassador Ghirn. The FCC wants to me to produce some kind of propaganda material to further support alien integration into the Federation. I'm using this room to test some ideas."

He opened the hatch, showing a yellow grid patterned surface in a large plain black room. They walked in, the door closing behind them and a holo screen panel appearing in front of them, moving along with them as they walked to the center of the room.

Bishop turned to the holo panel, typing in his commands, "What can you tell me about your friend, Faunz Reeger?"

"Reeger? What about him?" Miri asked.

"Well, I came up with this idea, see?" He held his hands up in front of her, framing her as he explained his idea, "A live action, drama-documentary based series that explores the galaxy through the eyes of a group of people that those on the Citadel, and back home in the Federation, would recognized."

"Alright, and who are you going to base this off of?"

He smiled, "And that's why you're here. I want a show following the life and times of you and Admiral Vali!"

Miri took a step back, surprised by the simple fact that someone would want to know about her and Zaren's life.

"B-But why us?" she asked, almost embarrassed.

Bishop answered, "Because, for better or worse, you are one of the most well known people in the galaxy. At home, we know you and Vali as the two main admirals who led their race towards a new home, who risked their lives to defend the ideals of the Federation. Across the galaxy, you and Vali are the leaders of the infamous 'Pilgrim Uprising', leading the might of the Council on a wild chase across the galaxy, spreading upheaval as you went."

"Then… then why did you ask about Reeger?"

"That's the weird thing. The FCC told me that your friend kept a detailed journal of the events that happened throughout your shared life. It was, however, apparently classified at your request."

"That information…" she quickly replied, knowing the knowledge their friend had noted down was dangerous to their race to the point that they locked it away after his death, "Was highly classified material. Not even those who served on the Admiralty Board with or after us knows of it. There were some things we did, known only to me, Vali, and Reeger, that should not be known by our race… for the time being, anyway."

Bishop nodded as he turned to the holographic panel. "For now, yes. But the government wants it to be released in the near future. But I think they agree with your assumption of what would happen. They have agreed to slowly declassify segments of information from his journal for me to use. They think that releasing it to the public in this manner is safer."

"Turn our whole lives, our toils and actions, into a show…"

"You'll like it. I mean… well. Don't think you'll be fully portrayed as heroes. The FCC has conflicting rules regarding changing the truth around too much, even if its propaganda. So hopefully you didn't do anything controversial. We'll be showing the truth, even if in the end, no one is ready for it,"

She turned to him, a bit worried, "Define ' _controversial_ '."

Bishop grinned, "Well, you know your past better than I do."

Bishop swiped over several programs on the screen until he found one he thought Miri would like to see. He selected it and activated the change in program. The room changed, into a wide-open bay, with a large ceiling and walls overflowing with vegetation, imprinted with large Khelesh words, and numerous small makeshift quarters and shacks littered across the floor of the large bay.

"Now then. I do have some more public information about your life, from filed reports to security feeds and so forth from both the Migrant Fleet and the Council. I just want to play some images to see what you think of them."

"Will this series of us be filmed with holograms?" she asked as she looked around.

He signed, "No. The Screen Actors Guild makes sure we use real people, unless they are AI actors. Most seem to think they're above it for some reason; should check with Patterson about that. You should join me for casting later. Bound to be some Quarians that are good at acting."

"I think I might know one person…" she took in the new look of the holographic room, remembering what it was, "I know this place, this is the old market layout on board the _Rayya._ This was when…"

"You were but a young girl?"

Bishop finished her sentence as he fully engaged the program. The room came to life as thousands of holographic Quarians appeared from thin air and walked through the bay, going about trading their items to one other, working on assignments for the ship, or heading to or leaving their small quarters. Miri looked around in amazement, starting to recognize some people from her youth. The trading bay was full of life; as loud as it was back when they once traveled the stars.

Out of curiosity and wonder, she began to walk, wanting to explore the ship she once lived on as a girl. Bishop followed, the screen in tow, as she wandered the maze of trading shacks, small makeshift quarters that housed entire families of Quarians, and trading lockers where they traded items for items.

"Keelah, that's…" she ran up to an old shack, full of tools, scrap electronics, and equipment. On the opening was a sign in Khelish, indicating it was of the clan Ghirn, at that time meaning it was property of Admiral Ghirn, Miri's father.

She entered it, looking at all her old tools and the inventions she had made, the product of her early greatness as an engineer, let alone her inheritance as a Quarian.

" _Let me go!_ " yelled the voice of a young boy.

" _Shut up, you damn bubble rat prazza!_ " responded a voice of a young girl, one Miri quickly recognized.

She left the shack and turned to the corridor of shacks, seeing a young girl holding a somewhat younger boy as she marched furiously down the market place. Miri ran up to them, watching them as the holograms phased right through her and continued as programed.

"That's… me!"

"Amazing, uh?" asked Bishop as he followed behind her.

" _I am not_ _a prazza, and I am not a bubble rat! I got my suit a full year ago. So come on Miri, its not my fault Faunz likes your friend and not you!_ "

" _Oh yes it is, Zaren, you stupid, overgrown bubble rat prazza! I worked hard to get my gift ready, and he didn't even notice! It was supposed to be destined that he would fall for me! Ahg!_ "

They followed the young girl as she walked up to a large trading locker. As young Zaren watched, young Miri opened it up and then shoved Zaren inside. She then slammed it tight and marched off, fuming as Zaren banged on the locker from the inside.

" _Hello? Miri? Anyone… I'm stuck in here… Anyone... Meep? Meep!_ "

Miri stood there as the simulation ended and everyone froze. Bishop took note of her shocked expression, hoping one other person in the observation area overlooking the entire holosuite was watching as well.

"That was almost seventy years ago…"

"A bit hard to remember, maybe. How about we try something from your Pilgrimage…"

With a quick input, the entire backdrop of the holosuite changed. From the wide halls, they changed to a small, cramped corridor, the light dimming. They ended up positioned at the end of the corridor, behind a nicely potted plant. It was different, with silver metal walls and floor, appearing new and clean, and of Council design.

"I hoped you remember this," Bishop said, though really for someone else's sake, "Well, soon enough you will. Let's play it."

He activated it and the program began to run. Trying to remember what this was, Miri and Bishop walked over to one of the cells and looked to see who was inside it. Miri stepped back in surprise as she recognized the man sitting in the cell.

"Keelah! That's Zaren… I remember now. This was when…"

She was interrupted by a commotion down the corridor of the C-Sec jail. They turned to see a holo drone floating into the corridor, passing a C-Sec officer as he stood there, idle and dozing off. The officer was awakened by the bright mass effect hologram and immediately pursued it, taking aim as he approached it. When he got close, it exploded, unleashing a concussive blast that knocked the officer out. From the corner that the drone came from, two Quarians, a male and a female, quickly ran in, then headed for Zaren's cell. A whispered argument erupted as the female Quarian hacked the cell.

" _Keelah. I can't believe you got arrested by C-Sec, Zaren_ ," said the female.

" _Yah prazza, we could all get in trouble for trying to break you out of here_ ," said the male, " _And I had something going on here_!"

" _I swear on the ancestors' VI, Faunz. If you keep calling me that stupid nickname, I'll break your facemask in. And Miri, it's your fault that I'm in here_."

" _What the hell? You're blaming me!?_ "

" _You were the one complaining, 'We don't have any money, we don't have any food, we don't have a place to stay, Faunz whoring himself off to the Asari is wrong'_."

" _I'm an actor, you low brow prazza_! _With prestigious awards in every category of the Citadel Adult Film awards!_ "

" _Whatever_ …"

" _Damn it, shut up, both of you!"_ She turned to Faunz, " _You! If you don't give me a good reason not to right now, I'll tell Angela you spent your entire Pilgrimage fucking everyone in the galaxy!_ "

" _Oh Keelah! Please, please don't tell her. I'll do anything!"_

" _I'll hold you to that_ ," She then turned to Zaren as she finished her hack program, " _And you! You tried to rob a bank on the damn Presidium! With people who were clearly going to betray you! Stupid prazza, they could execute you for that_!"

The older Miri and Bishop watched as the hologram characters opened the cell. The younger Miri punched the younger Zaren in the arm, before grabbing his hand and running off, throwing an overload shock at the officer as he stood back up.

She held her hands to her mouth piece as she looked on, breathing heavily, "Unbelievable, that was right before we made our escape off the Citadel! That was recorded?"

"Well C-Sec did have video and audio surveillance of this happening. Thankfully, like the FCC, they don't know jack about how to analyze the most obvious of data. But your reports and taudio recordings from your omnitool of your adventure with Admiral Vali were archived by the fleet. Here's another one that's apparently been well recorded. I'll let you guess by who."

* * *

Bishop grabbed the screen and scrolled another panel, switching over to another program and selected it. It activated, changing the background again, one much more massive in scale. This time they appeared on the surface of a planet, surrounding them were holographic images of wrecks of ship hulls and debris stretching far into the horizon, littering the place as the sky maintained a musky orange, the general atmosphere pungent and dirty all around.

"Welcome to Korl–" Bishop began to cough uncontrollably, dropping to his knees as he choked. He looked over at the screen, his eyes red and teary, lifting his hand in a struggle as he bashed on the panel to quickly deactivate the air chemistry replication program. After succeeding, he took several deep breaths before regaining his posture. "Sorry, I… forgot this is… a garbage planet. The holosuite can also stimulate the air texture, stopping only when it would be completely deadly to humans. But of course, it makes it quite realistic up to that point."

"Korlus… it's been years."

The ground began to rumble, a loud roaring noise came from behind them. They looked over and heard the loud humming coming over a cliff. As they slowly walked over to the edge of the cliff of garbage and rubble, the engine noise increased in volume, shaking the ground and knocking them down. As they looked up, a massive Turian ship, covered with scrap metal and garbage, emerged from below the cliff in a massive spectacle. It quickly leveled off and slowly hovered to the edge. Miri recognized it immediately.

"It's… it's the _Korbin_! That's the ship we took from Korlus!"

It was an old Turian heavy cruiser, decommissioned before Miri and Zaren even began their Pilgrimage, and long before Humanity truly traveled the stars. It spanned nearly eight hundred and fifty meters long, and was distinguished by its large, feathered wings that came as part of its signature Turian bird-of-prey design. It hovered at the edge of the cliff, slowly positioning its forward end to the edge of the cliff, getting a bit closer. As they watched, mass accelerated rounds flew over them from behind. They quickly looked back, seeing an Asari commando leading several Turian and Salarian soldiers, opening fire at the ship.

" _There! Those suit rats are stealing the ship. Hurry and shoot the one still on the cliff before she gets on board!_ " ordered Matriarch Lidanya as she raised her pistol to shoot at them.

" _What in the spirits do you think we're doing?_ " replied Lieutenant Commander Marcus Junius.

A few stray rounds impacted the rocks and debris around them, Bishop quickly pushed her to cover behind a rock. He took cover as well and turned to her, "I forgot to mention, I've programmed you into the stimulation."

Miri looked at him, "Wait, what?"

"You're actively playing your younger self right now. Do you remember this event happening?"

"Uh…" A sand grain round chipped the top of the rock, spraying sand on them, "Wait, so they're shooting at me right now?"

He peered over cover and quickly ducked, nervously smiling again, "Don't worry, there's like, over three hundred safety keys… and technically one of the laws of physics is making sure their holo bullets can't kill... Hopefully. But they'll hurt, that's for sure."

"If I remember correctly, I was here, waiting as Zaren and Faunz brought the ship close to the edge for me to jump on."

On cue, they looked to the ship as it got close to the edge of the cliff, almost to the point that it was touching the very edge. A hatch opened up, with a young Zaren leaning out of the door while grabbing onto the railing.

Zaren yelled to her, " _Miri, jump over and I'll catch you_."

She placed her hand on her helmet, "Oh Keelah. Not this again."

"I recommend you go jump. They're getting closer to us," said Bishop, looking over their cover, quickly and instinctively ducking back when one of the rounds hit the rock next to him.

"What about you?" asked Miri curiously.

"I'm not part of the program, they only see you," He peered over again, this time several holographic rounds flew over the rocks and phased through his head, followed by a biotic wave. The holographic attacks ignoring him, "Besides, this room is only twenty meters long. I won't be far from you."

" _Come on!_ _I promise I'll catch you! Forget what happened on Illium!"_

She looked back up, taking quick note of Junius and Lidanya as she ducked back down.

Miri asked, "Do I have to follow the program exactly?"

"No, not really. The computer will compensate accordingly, for the short term anyway."

She immediately un-holstered her Carnifax pistol, which Bishop didn't notice she was carrying earlier, a testament to her continued skills as an infiltrator.

"I should have done this the first time around."

She broke from cover and opened fire, quickly gunning down several Council soldiers with deadly precision as they charged at her position. Her real rounds were 'caught' by the program before they impacted the real walls. The hologram Junius was the first to reach her, vaulting over a pile of debris and rocks to attack her. The more experienced Miri was still quicker and more agile than the Turian, his attack. With a quick punch and chop, she stunned Junius, giving her time to take her knife out. As she plunged it through his throat, holographic blue blood splattered on her gloved hand, she took some comfort in at least having killed the man in some form.

Miri then turned to the Matriarch. As she approached her position, Miri opened fire once more, with full disruptor rounds in place. The energized rounds burst through Lidanya's shields and the barrier she had, two solid hits to the torso and one to the knee as many more grazed her, cutting her all over.

She fell to the ground, just meters short of Miri. Grasping her wounds, her hands covered in purplish blood, she looked up as Miri stepped over her cover and walked up to her, pistol drawn. Miri pressed the barrel against her forehead, in disbelief at what had happened.

" _Ah fuck!_ "

"Keelah se'lai, bitch!"

And with a quick pull, she blew her away, the round burrowing straight through her head as her body and head were thrown back. She was actually starting to enjoy herself, taking out her suppressed anger, frustration, and sorrow on those she despised from her past. She knew that it wasn't real, but she still found some satisfaction in redoing moments in her life and doing things differently.

In response to her action, the computer generated more Council soldiers to charge at her from afar. She looked over to Zaren, breathing rapidly as she tried to think of what to do next as Zaren tried lying down suppressing fire. As she walked to the edge, she noticed that Bishop was gone.

The ship shook a bit and backed away from the edge a bit.

" _Damn it Faunz! Keep her steady._ " He turned to her, a larger gap between them, " _Come on, Miri! I'll catch you_!"

"I doubt it. But here goes nothing!"

She backed up and began sprinting towards the edge. She built up speed as more troops poured in and fired at her, narrowly missing her as she ran in a zigzag pattern. She took her last step at the very edge, using it to jump into the air.

Her Quarian leg structure gave her a greater push and height as she flew into the air, but her old age had now become a liability, she was not as fast as she was all those years ago. She tried extending her hand, but narrowly missed Zaren's. Her heart skipped a beat as she looked down at the kilometer long drop. Even though it was an illusion, her life almost flashed before her eyes. Just then, she suddenly found herself hanging in the air instead of plunging, looking up she saw Zaren holding onto her with all his might as he pulled her into the ship, all while still being shot at by the Council troops. With a final pull, Zaren pulled Miri up, propelling both of them into the ship and on the floor. As she rolled on the floor, she saw a bright flash, prompting her to close her eyes for a short moment. One, nonetheless, that would change everything.

* * *

She came to, opening her eyes as she shook off her daze and got back up. She was expecting to see Zaren, both of them in the corridor of the _Korbin_. But as she looked closely, she quickly realized the entire background had changed.

"Uh, Bishop. Did you change the programming?"

Getting no response, she checked herself and her new surroundings. It didn't take long for her to realize it was Zaren's old quarters on the _Korbin_. She walked around, looking at all the old things lying around. It was a large living space, even for a Turian ship, let alone the clear renovations to make it seem more Quarian. From the layout and the assortment of random items, she deduced it was about fifty years ago, around the same time they dealt with Admiral Tredis and the Geth. She took a seat, still exhausted from the last program.

Zaren came out from a side room, carrying some things. Miri greeted him, but he didn't respond. She thought she might not be part of this program. She then confirmed it when her younger self walked into his quarters. She thought to herself about what this was.

" _Zaren, you called? What do you need_?"

The holographic Zaren responded, teasingly coy all the while, " _Well,_ _ **Admiral**_ _Ghirn. I have something to show you_!"

The holo Miri giggled as she shook her head, " _Come now, Zaren. You don't have to address me like that. And what do you have for me? It's not like you can hide anything from me._ "

" _It's a surprise!_ " he said as he went back, moving boxes of his gear around, " _And what happened to the young hapless engineer I first met? You've taken your infiltration training a bit much._ "

" _All in service to the Fleet,_ " she answered, before remembering why she was there, " _Speaking of which, I also have a surprise for you_!"

" _Really? For me? You were always trying to one up me. So what is it_?"

" _You should go first. You said you had one for me_."

" _But I insist you go first, as the admiral_."

" _Fine,_ _ **Captain**_ _Vali. Close your eyes and cover your mask_."

He looked at her in surprise, chuckling a bit, " _Really_?"

She tossed a blanket at him, " _Come on, do it, Zaren_."

" _Ok… Miri_." He grabbed the blanket and covered his helmet, closing his eyes as well since it could be taken as a command from a superior officer. The actual Miri was sure Zaren was expecting something personal from her younger self, based on his body language.

But she knew that wasn't going to happen. She watched her younger self walked back to the door, quietly opening it. Three other Quarians, much older than them, walked in. They lined up in a row facing Zaren, blocking the older Miri's view. She stood up, walking through the holo admirals as she positioned herself to see all of them, all of them former colleagues of her father, some she came close to seeing as family at one point.

"Ancestors! This was when–"

" _Ok Zaren, you can open your eyes_!" the young Miri said with a teasing tone, interrupting her older self. She seemed also apparently aware what Zaren had really been hoping for.

He removed the blanket, giggling in suspense, " _You are such a tease–– Admirals_!" He dropped the blanket and quickly saluted them, fist to chest, " _May I ask what you are doing here in my personal quarters_?"

" _Well, Captain Vali. We wouldn't want to keep you waiting so we'll get to the point_ ," said the head admiral in the middle.

" _Yes, we're here to talk about something of the upmost importance_ ," said the female admiral to Zaren's left.

" _You remember what happen to Admiral Tredis, yes_?" asked the last admiral to his right.

Zaren nodded, " _Well, yes admirals. He… was killed in a skirmish between the Geth. A tragedy_." He was reluctant to speak of it, since it wasn't entirely true. His tone nonetheless conveying what was expected from the apprentice of the admiral. Zaren still grieved for the man, a father figure, even if he knew the real truth about him.

" _Agreed. Tredis had served on the board for decades. His death represents a great loss in leadership to our people. And now there is a vacant spot on the Admiralty Board. Given that he was your mentor; we feel it prudent we have a person of similar training in his spot_ ," responded the head admiral.

The young Miri walked up to him, grabbing his hands, " _Zaren, they want you to be an admiral_!"

He let go of her hand and stepped back, almost falling over his boxes of gear, leaning on the nearest surface before he stood back up. " _Y-You want me to be an admiral_?"

" _Yes, Captain Vali. We want you to replace Admiral Tredis. Admittedly, we had our doubts…_ " the head admiral turned to Miri, " _But you had a strong advocate. We do need someone who can bring new blood and ideas to the board, but with the same expertise as Tredis, which held this fleet together. Our race's survival depends on it_." With a bit of reluctance, he asked, " _Would you accept_?"

" _Yes, sir_!" he said quickly, fearing a second of delay would make the promotion of a lifetime disappear. " _I, uh… accept the promotion. Thank you_!"

He nodded, " _That's good. Now then, report to the_ Rayya _for a short ceremony in one hour, which is to then be followed by a board meeting. Understood_?"

" _Yes, Admiral_ ," answered Zaren, saluting them.

They saluted back, and then Miri, before leaving the room. When the door closed, Zaren took a single step before stumbling forward, almost crashing onto the couch across from the actual Miri. The younger Miri sat down and hugged him. As it unfolded, the older one started to remember what happened next.

" _Isn't it great, Zaren? Now we're both admirals_!" she said as she leaned against him.

Zaren moved in closer as he thought about it, " _A great 'advocate'… Did you get me this position Miri_?"

" _It's the least I could do after you save me from being exiled from the Fleet. Which in turn got me my father's position_."

" _Well, I understand that. But after what really happen to Tredis…"_

" _Come on now,_ " she said, hinting that she simply did not want to think about what had happened to all of them," _Nothing before matters now_." She grabbed Zaren's head and pointed his facemask at hers as she moved closer, " _We have each other_."

" _Of course… Which reminds me. I hope my gift is as good as yours_."

He stood up and walked into a side room and came back out with a small flat box. He gave it to her, asking her to open it. The older Miri walked over, looking down as she watched her younger self open the box.

" _Oh, Zaren… It's beautiful_!"

From the small flat box, she pulled out a purple cloth with numerous thin white circles making a twirling pattern, like the breeze of the wind they saw when planet side. It was a new hood for her helmet, which represented the appearance of their hair, locked away in their helmets. She unhooked the two front buckles for her old one as Zaren helped her unhook the back, before she attached the new one over her helmet.

" _Keelah, Miri. You look beautiful_!"

" _Zaren, it's wonderful! I love you so much._ "

" _Not as much as I love you, Miri_."

The elder Miri watched as the young Zaren slid off the couch, on one knee in front of the younger Miri. He held her hand in his, looking up to her, his bright grey eyes staring through his mask and into her own. The elder Miri was in disbelief. She was seeing what once was one of the happiest days of her life, retold with such clarity and tone. _It just can't be_ , she thought. _How could there have been such a detailed record about this?_

" _Admiral Miri'Ghirn, would you marry me_?"

She looked at him, in what Miri now remembered as the longest second of her life.

" _Yes, Admiral Zaren'Vali! Yes, I'll marry you_!"

"No…"

They both stood up, embracing each other as they sat back down, holding hands as they leaned their facemasks against each other. In disbelief, Miri slid out of her seat. She quickly yelled out the order to freeze the program. She looked at their younger selves, remembering all the moments she had with him. In that moment, her life did flash before her eyes. Of the first time they ever met, of their childhood, of the adventures they had during their Pilgrimage, and how, through what was almost like fate for them, how they fell in love with each other.

She sat there, slowly crying to herself, her head held in her hands. After taking a few deep breaths, she grabbed some object on a table and threw it at the young couple, but it simply went through the holograms.

"Computer, end program!"

The room disappeared, turning back into the grid-patterned holosuite. She sat there on the cold electronic floor, continuing to cry inside her helmet, before she screamed out in agony. She remembered all she had lost, her mother, her father, her home, the ideals of their race. But she recalled how Zaren had been there to hold her, during their Pilgrimage, the early years of their adult lives, and during the great crisis that changed their view on their people, of the Geth, and themselves. She remembered this moment, and the time after. She remembered their first son, Dorin and of how they raised a family, and led a race.

But it only meant she then remembered how it all fell apart. They failed to lead when it mattered most, slowly become divisive with each other as the years went by. They failed to be there for their child, with two polar parenting styles that hampered their son's development. And to rub salt in the wound, they had lost that rare chance for a second child in a tragic miscarriage; an extremely rare event given Quarian physiology. She tried to stop thinking, but the recent past filled her mind; of a crumbling marriage, of their lack of success as parents, then of the events on Triginta Petra. The horrors that happened in those few days that ended her old life, that scarred her in so many ways.

With this, she couldn't help not to remember. The thought finally registered in her mind. Everyone else was dead. Now, so was Zaren. When he died in her arms, so did the last part of her past, one she had tried so hard to hide, but couldn't help but think about. Truly now, more than ever before, she felt alone.

* * *

As she curled up, she felt something grab her shoulder.

"Miri?"

In an instant, she stood up, turning around as she pulled out her side pistol and pointed it at whoever was behind her. But when she saw who it was, she dropped her gun.

"Z-Z-Zaren!"

"Uhm… Hello, Miri."

"No…" she looked at him, still dressed in the same suit, the same suit he had died in. "You're not real. Computer, end program," she panicked when nothing happened, "End program!"

She hurried to get her pistol, but Zaren picked it up first. She felt her heart skip another beat, but was more horrified when Zaren lifted his hand and handed her back her signature firearm.

"You dropped this, Miri."

"This… this can't be happening!"

"Miri!" Zaren chuckled for a moment, before he began to cry, "I'm… I'm back."

She struggled to comprehend what was happening, "But…" she grabbed her pistol, but holstered it, trying to stay logical, "How are you alive?"

Zaren paused for a moment. He had basically rehearsed this moment in his mind, but now he was without words. He felt guilty. He then knew what he really wanted to say.

"They brought me back."

"Who?"

"The Terran! The humans… they brought me back to life."

He looked down, guilty. He had seen everything. He saw everything she did, the moments of their past. And he saw her argue with Junius, angry and furious. Before he could say more, Miri rushed in and embraced him. As she tightened her arms around him, crying in a mix of present joy and past sadness, Zaren stood there, unable to process what she was doing.

"Thank the ancestors." She held on tightly to him, full of emotion, "Thank those insane pyjacks… they brought you back."

Zaren's heart sank. Then he wept, partly out of joy at being with Miri once more, but more so out of sadness. He couldn't agree. He didn't feel he deserved this. She saw the past and what once was the best moment of their life together. He couldn't help but think of the horror that came after, of how he was sure he was at fault for it all.

"They brought me back…" He forced himself to slowly push Miri off him, though he longed too much to be with her, "The humans. The plans they have. Its why they joined the Council, why they welcomed millions to their shores, why they have men like Junius in a position of power… why they brought me back to life."

She looked at him, confused, "What, what are they doing?"

"So much, Miri. More than what an entire coalition of countless races can do. This great… gambit of theirs, is to save us all. Like we did when we stopped Tredis, and the heretical Geth. Not just for their race, but everyone in the galaxy."

"They brought you back to help them?"

"They did…" He then yelled at the top of his regenerated lungs, knowing they were listening, "But they had no right!"

The holosuite program resumed, now they were back in his room. But it was different. It felt cold; the atmosphere was different, darker, and bleaker. Miri tried to remember where, and when, they were. But Zaren knew all too well.

He then grabbed Miri's hand and forced her to un-holster her Carnifex. She tried to stop him, but Zaren was persistent, and a part of her allowed it to happen. In a moment, the pistol was drawn, Zaren held her hand steady as she was forced to aim her pistol at his head.

"What are you do––"

"Making you do what you should have done!" He broke down in tears, his voice cracked in despair, "All those years ago..."

She tried to resist, grabbing onto her hand with her free one to aim away from him, but Zaren held steady, insistent. His rebuilt arms, and his will, were much stronger.

"Damn it, Zaren! What are you doing?"

"Who do you blame?"

"What?!"

He shoved the end of the pistol and pressed it against his facemask, "For everything? I saw you." He broke into a small chuckle, one that turned into a cry of despair, "You blamed it on Junius. No… You know he didn't do anything in the end…"

She was panicking, unable to stop him, "What are you talking about!?"

"Me! Damn it! It's all my fault. It was always my fault! This damn prazza! I caused all of the pain you experienced your entire life!"

"That's not true!"

"You blame others? Why defend me? When you were right from the beginning! Do you remember? Here in this room?"

Miri was now panicking, trying not to remember that very moment, "No… No!"

"Thirty years ago! After _I_ got Don's wife killed, Zaal's father killed; after I failed to stop that monster slaver from doing what he did to you… after I saw _your_ son die in my arms, his last words doubting that I ever cared for him as his father…" he dropped to his knees, keeping the pistol aimed at him. The act itself a flashback to that moment, the moment they were done, it was more vivid than all of the holo-simulations put together. She couldn't tell if this was real or not, and she was utterly scared because of it. "You aimed this gun at me, and in an act of cowardice, I begged on my knees for you not to pull that trigger… What mercy you gave, after all I'd done to you, I did not deserve."

"Zaren…"

"You blamed me! And you were right… Keelah, you were right. I was a monster like Tredis. They all died because of me! I failed them all as an admiral. I failed Dorin as a father. And I failed you, as a husband… as a friend. I didn't deserve that second chance… And now, I don't deserve this either." He looked up at her, through the sight of her pistol, "I won't let you make the same mistake again."

"Damn it, Zaren," Miri was breathing heavily, unable to pull her weapon back, not wanting to do what he wanted. Yet all her emotion of anger and sorrow, ones she had gathered for thirty years, came close to defying her. "No!"

"Yes!" He let go of one hand and reached over to his helmet wiring. He ripped it out, and quickly his helmet as whole. His head was exposed, a bitter old man, bitter at himself and everything else.

"Zaren!"

"Look at what they did!" He cried and laughed at the same time, pressing the end of the barrel against his purple forehead, "Now the very air our race spent our whole lives fearing can't kill me! I have no right to this! None of this!" His old face and white eyes looked up at her facemask, "I won't let them dictate my future… And I won't let myself do so either. I give it back to you… I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything! All I ever tried to do for you, only ended up hurting you."

Zaren lowered his head. He couldn't muster the will to look at her. He was right, he thought. He reached for something in his pocket and took it out, clenching to it tightly as he waited there, waiting for the end, hoping it would set things right, that it would set something right.

Miri looked down at the man, and the past felt like it was repeating itself all over again. In that very room they became one, and she was that close to putting an end to it. In a way, she thought she had all those years ago, but she saw they had both only suffered for it. With the pull ever so easy to do, she tried to think of what was happening. She told herself she didn't want this. She cried out she didn't want to. Her emotions were running, anger, sorrow, and loss.

Looking down at the man, she noticed something in his hands. It was a cloth of sorts, purple yet heavily faded and washed out. But she was able to recognize the pattern on it and realized what it was. The very hood scarf he had given her, he still had it. It was from when they became one, and later fell apart. Zaren had held onto it the whole time.

In that moment, after thirty years, she knew what she wanted.

Knowing Zaren had resigned to his fate, she mustered up the strength to defy him once more. Before he could react, she attacked her own hand, knocking the pistol out of it. It went off, a round hitting the real walls of the holosuite and disabling the entire program, putting them back in the cold electronic room of the Terran ship.

Zaren was panicking, unable to comprehend what was happening. Miri knew and she went to him. She fell to her knees, and Zaren looked on as she reached over and pulled off her own helmet. She quickly threw it aside, the aged face of a woman whom had been through so much, now sat directly in front of Zaren.

"Miri!"

"No, Zaren… no."

She took a deep breath. She was not immune, but she most certainly wasn't scared. Zaren looked at her, in full, for the first time in so long. And she did the same as well. She grabbed his shoulders and looked at him, true eye to eye contact, as locked as the last time they did so on Mars. Then, like that moment so long ago, she pressed her forehead against his, tears streaming down both of their faces.

"He was _your_ son, Zaren…" She smiled for a moment as she looked at him, "Dorin was _**our**_ son!" Then she burst into tears and cried in grief. "Our son is dead!"

Almost by instinct, Zaren reached out and pulled her towards him, finding her crying in his shoulders as he patted her back, grasping the gift he gave her so long ago. He was emotionless, unable to comprehend. But as she cried there, holding onto Zaren for dear life, it hit him. In that moment, he also began to mourn, both of them finally able to do what they were unable to do together in so long. They mourned for their son. They mourned for their son, together.

* * *

 **Part 4:**

 **Bishop and Williams - Holosuite Control Room  
July 5, 2167 11:00:00 UTC**

A few meters above them was a one way window, blending in with the wall. Behind it was a control room where the program could be viewed from a distance, monitoring power regulators and hologram safety boards. At the window, Bishop looked down upon them, seeing the couple in each other's arms. As he wiped his eyes and continued looking down, the doors to the control room opened up. Bishop paid no attention as a man walked up to him.

"It's good to see they are together, wouldn't you say?" asked Williams as stood next to Bishop.

Bishop sighed, taking a drink from his flask, "No shit, it's good. Imagine if she actually had pulled the trigger. You could arm an entire corp worth of troops for the cost of bringing him back. Bloody waste of my money."

Williams gave a small chuckle and shook his head, "If he was anymore dead, we could have had arm an entire army for the cost! But still, a man who has a reason to fight is a useful man."

"And me?" He finished drinking, and turned to him, "What about me? What stake do I have in this? This pompous rich jackass, who lost his wife in a war he thinks he could have stopped, a son who hates him to the bone, and a wealth of money that, in a cliché show of morality, doesn't make him dirt shit happy… Also, his marriage was falling apart anyway, in a 'she died in the war before she could leave him'," He paused to think on that, "Or she left me to fight in the Revival… not sure at this point."

"You are so negative," Williams smiled and shook his head, Bishop less than pleased by his demeanor. "There is so much, especially now that the galaxy is open to us. Explore it and see what riches it holds. See where that galactic journey takes you."

He sighed, "Jade always wanted to explore the galaxy." He took another drink, "God, I still remember the look on her face when she left Earth for the first time."

"I assure you, there is so much to learn, so much left to do. So don't count yourself out. We are all moving forward. Where our path takes us, not even I can guess that."

He murmured to himself, " _Out ride the sons and daughters of Terra, Far drives the thundering jets, up leaps a race of Earthman… out, far, and onward yet._ "

"But…" Williams said, hearing and finishing that old poem he had spoke, " _We pray for one last landing, On the globe that gave us birth; Let us rest our eyes on the fleecy skies. On the cool, green hills of Earth._ "

"Do we wish to return to Earth?"

"From Earth to Terra, as Anderson once said."

"Man's greatest denial. That we want to go home, but not the one we left."

Bishop took another drink, chuckling a bit at the poem. As both were looking on through the viewport, Williams continued, "It would be best that I told you why I'm here. It's about the Mark V."

"What? Oh yes, yes." He rubbed his forehead, "The project is on schedule. It'll be installed on Arcturus in time for the station's opening."

"That's good. Our 'Guardian Bear', protecting the heart of our space," he sighed, knowing more of the future than he wanted, "To see what awaits for us in these coming years…"

Bishop checked his watch, "So what now?"

"We wait. As we always have."

"Is that part of the plan?"

"Bishop, you should know better than to ask that. With what we're doing, you had best make damn sure every possible action is according to plan!" He gestured to him to pass his flask. With some reluctance, Bishop did and Williams took a drink as well, "And trust me, it is all according to plan…"

* * *

 **Part 5:**

 **Colonial Primarch Desolas Arterius - Taetrus  
Day Five since Terran's Entrance onto Council  
July 10, 2167 00:00:00 UTC**

The Primarch stood there, staring out the balcony of his office of the Radiatum on the colony of Taetrus. Leaning on the railing, Desolas thought about all that had happened in the past few days. Anger now degrading to general disappointment.

" _I warned them… I warned them of all! They sat idly by, and now this…"_

Unlike the others, he would not sit idly by. What the Terrans had done could not go unanswered or unpunished. But while so many that would follow the man through hell and back had urged that they retaliate immediately, the aged Primarch and experience general of unorthodox tactics, knew better. The Council and Hierarchy's lack of intelligence and indecisive actions had allowed this to happen. He wouldn't do the same nor suffer the same.

If he were to do something, he needed to learn. Peace has begun and the Terrans were here. Looking outward from his balcony to the colonial city and the marshes of Taetrus, he would learn and adapt. From the failings of others, he would find a way to succeed. Desolas knew, if he would win against the Terrans, he must understand who they are and how they fight. And the most prominent thought on his mind, why were they doing what they were doing. There was far more to what Bowman said, of why they were here.

There was peace. " _Maybe for the best,"_ he thought. It gave him time, an _interbellum_ , as they would say in the old language. In peace, he had time to ready for war. His patience will soon become the Terrans' undoing.

As the guest he was waiting for arrived at his door, something else crossed his mind as he walked off the balcony and closed his doors.

" _Sparatus was very insistent that the Terrans could have played a role on the attack on Illium… Maybe this was the plan the whole time?"_

He walked to his desk and welcomed his guest inside. He smiled and greeted him with the affection of a brother.

"Saren! Brother! How good you could come! Please… we have much to discuss."

* * *

 **Section 14 Agents - Dixie 190, Near Torfan**

"Any new information from our drones?" asked the commanding officer onboard Dixie-190.

"Nothing on sensors, Commander," reported one of the drone officers.

He shivered at the thought of what they were doing. The Commander still remembered seeing those captured Hegemony videos, "Keep an eye out. Only God knows what kind of horror is in this damn thing."

Across the void, over a dying red giant, station Dixie-190 monitored several frigate science vessels as they studied the dead Reaper the Batarians had found months ago. It was a secret operation, completely run by the remaining loyal agents of Section 14. Unlike the Federation, the station and the ships surrounding it were marked with Section identifiers, with a color scheme of red and gold, unlike the standard Naval blue and silver.

"So sir, how did we find this . . . squid thing?" asked the officer.

The Commander took a seat at a console next to the officer, stirring his cup of coffee, "Well, first off, it looks more like a cuddle fish. Already had an argument with one of the science vessel's commanders in the break room yesterday. Second, I heard the Butcher himself found it on the computers on Torfan."

"I thought that was just a raider's base?"

"Apparently, it was more than that. Let's be thankful we got our hands on it rather than those savage bastards."

"Was it here originally?" asked the officer as he continued monitoring his console.

"They somehow managed to sneak into one of our clusters and took it a few months back. How they found it before us is beyond me. The Hegemony brass had taken to calling it the 'Leviathan of Dis'. They hoped to get what tech was on it to outdo the Council. Instead, their entire upper government was indoctrinated in a matter of months. Left the Hegemony wide open when we came along."

"I was debriefed about the records they had while exploring it," he said, wanting his commander's opinion on that.

"Horrific sight..." The Commander shivered a bit before taking another drink, "Those things used to be Batarians! First goes your mind and then goes you. Its not a sight for the faint of heart."

The officer's monitor beeped and he turned back to check it, "Seems a bit close to the star. Radiation causing mild interference, signal degradation now at 12%."

"And it was for that reason that Williams wanted every precaution. If they can manipulate an organic's mind, image what they can do to a synth of binary numbers and code. We don't know a lot about these Reapers, but if they wiped out every empire before us for a billion years, nothing is to be overlooked, no matter how stupid it is. So that's why we have it readied to be thrown into this sun."

"Monsters lurking in the depths of space, waiting to attack you. What a great way to induce nightmares…" He continued recalibrating his instruments, increasing signal yield. "Why can't we live in a galaxy where the only major threat to your existence is just your neighboring empire?"

The Commander chuckled then finished his cup, "The universe has a way of always staying more interesting." He placed it on the table and leaned back in his seat, "Too bad 'interesting' goes both ways."

The officer sighed, "Now we have to fight organized rebels…"

He smiled and shook his head, starting to doze off a bit, "We basically took over the Council! We're the damn Galactic Empire! We should ask R&D to arm our kinetics with light sabers. Who better to be the dark side than the shadow of the Federation?"

The officer got a good laugh from that, "Come on, Commander. Have you seen our kinetics? They'll just cut their arms off." He continued further calibrations on his monitor. "Though it does have a ring to it. _Dark Lord Williams_ , and his apprentice, _Darth Harper_."

The commander shook his head to wake himself up, reaching for his cup for one more sip, "Those two can call themselves whatever they want. At least they're not kinetics."

They continued to monitor the screens in the control room. After a minute of no significant readings, something new came up. But it wasn't coming from the drones.

"Sir, we are picking up ten ships coming out of warp, bearing 185.285.927, heading to our position."

"Warp? So they're one of us then?"

"Something is wrong though. IFF isn't reading them as friendly." He stood up and looked over to another officer a few rows down from him, "Lieutenant, open hail!"

The Commander stood up, "Put them onscreen!"

Across the void from them, there was a squadron of ten Terran designed vessels. They were mostly attack frigates, led by small group of light cruisers, but their design indicated a far older make than currently used by the Navy. Their markings were outdated. And the old color scheme seem faded from the exposer to space and solar radiation. After a moment of trying to raise communications, he replied, "They're ignoring all of our hails!"

The Commander placed his cup down, raising the station to red alert, "Oh god. They're the rebels! Send out a distress and get the ships into formation! We can't let them—"

The station rocked violently as they began their attack. Four of their light cruisers began their attack run, destroying the Section's newer, but lightly armed science frigates with ease. Five more rebel frigates made a run at the station, destroying its satellite defense before Section forces could fire back. As the lightly armed station fired away with minimal phasers and some antimatter tipped ODMMs from its missile pods, a new ship appeared, this time from hyperspace.

This new ship, a heavy cruiser nearly a kilometer long, made its way towards the Reaper artifact. Like the others, it was an old style ship from the 30s. Unlike the others, it was clearly more well maintained. It had a different color scheme than the others; it was bright white, with golden outlines across the ship.

Back on the station, the remaining crew was scurrying about as they evacuated their wounded and put out fires across the heavily damaged station; there were few remaining officers at their post. The officer, knocked from his seat as the station was bombarded, struggled to climb back on with a broken arm and a head wound. He activating a special made distress call for the situation, part of many scenarios anticipated. He looked down at his console, seeing the large rebel ship make its way towards its target.

"Sir, the message is away. Now what?"

The Commander held his arm, "We fulfill our mission, for the Federation and the Section. Throw that damn squid into the sun!"

"Yes sir, activating thrusters!"

The frigates, armed with salvaged military weapons or civilian grade ones, fired one of their few photon torpedoes at the station, hitting above the station's command canter. A huge explosion from above burst through the ceiling and consumed the room below. The Commander moved quickly and shoved the officer under his console, a small space protected from the explosion. When he got out and looked around, he saw his commanding officer lying dead on the floor, burnt to a brutal crisp along with everyone else. He struggled to stand up, collapsed metal beams all round him while wiring dangled from the ceiling and smoke filled the room. He looked to the viewport where there were several small cracks, venting the smoke and air out into the void.

He looked at his console, the touch screen burnt, but still outputting its command menu. With what little energy he had left, he hammered down on the screen; there was enough sensory input through what remained of the computer system to begin the ejection sequence.

"Done!... It's done." He fell back in his seat, "You rebel scum can all go to—"

A torpedo hit the command room itself. From the view of the pursuing heavy cruiser, the hit gave out a massive explosion, marking the final blow as the station exploded and tore apart, littering the area with metal wreckage along with the science vessels. The frigates regrouped and joined with the heavy cruiser as they rushed for the Reaper wreck as it sailed for the star.

"Do we have a hack into the thruster system?" asked the commander on board the rebel heavy cruiser.

"Hacking in process sir… We're in. Disabling thrusters." Responded one of the crew members on the bridge.

The Commander nodded, walking back to his seat from the science console, "Good. Have the light cruisers engage grappling clamps and secure the ship wreck."

Another officer turned and reported in, "Sir, Dixie-190 was able to send a distress call. Section patrols will be here in ETA sixty seconds."

"Plot a course. Commsman, get me in contact with Command."

"Yes sir, opening secured hyperspace link… On screen!"

The screen changed from the forward point of view of the ship to a dark room. There were five over lights shining down on five enclosed egg shaped chairs, one in the middle with two flanking on either side. Those sitting in them were still hidden away in their seats.

The central voice spoke out, disguised by voice alteration, "Report."

"Sir, we have secured the ship wreck at the given coordinates. Section 14 forces have been destroyed."

"Good. We are sending you the coordinates to rendezvous with a science vessel to deliver the wreck. Leave quickly before reinforcements arrive."

"Yes, sir. Moving out."

The screen switched back to the forward point of view of the ship as the message ended. The Commander ordered the heavy cruiser to form up in front of the cruisers towing the wreck. The ships moved into place as the light cruisers towed the Reaper from the star. The heavy cruiser activated its special hyperdrive, forming a huge wormhole in front of the flotilla. Each light cruiser added on their own engine power to stabilize the wormhole and hyperspace field to allow all the ships to enter with the Reaper wreck, a feat unknown even to the regular Navy. They slowly entered the wormhole, disappearing as they were sent through hyperspace at FTL speeds. The last ships disappeared into the wormhole, before it finally faded away, leaving behind only the destroyed wreck of the station and ships.

* * *

 _There are still those who doubt that we, the Terrans, should have ever entered the Citadel Council. I know that… there are some still critical of my decision. With what happened in the immediate years following, some have claimed we should retreat back into our space; that we should stay way from the others in this vast galaxy of ours. They wanted us to look inwards._

 _But that isn't the Terran way. We have always looked outwards. We have always gone outward. Joining the Council was the first step towards expanding across the galaxy. What happened all those years ago was part of the natural shock that came with First Contact. Tragic as it was, it couldn't have been prevented. The push forward meant an equal push back. The galaxy works on Newton's Laws._

 _But I have no doubt that, in the end, we created a new era of peace and prosperity by what we did all those years ago. The galaxy is stronger, richer, and more advanced than it was before First Contact. The peace we have now, from Earth to Palaven, and to the far reaches of the galaxy like Watson and Petra Nova, is thanks to the fact that, not only have we empowered the galaxy, but also aided the galaxy to help itself._

 _No one would dispute that. Not Chairman Udina, Primarch Fedorian, Matriarch Aethyta, nor would Dalatrass Lisle or First Citizen Kirrahe, say otherwise. In the end, ten years since the Great Autumn War, we have a peace that truly signifies not simply the ideals of the Council, but of the cooperation of life in the galaxy._

 _If you time traveled from a decade ago to here, would you recognize anything? The Asari under a single republic, united under one definitive power to channel the might of one of the oldest races in the galaxy? Or the Salarian Union and Salarian Dominion, representing a long, overdue political and cultural revolution among one of the most intellectual races? Could you comprehend a Terminus brought to heel, a race lost in space, closer to home than ever before? Would you have been surprised by the never before seen cooperation between the Hierarchy undergoing a cultural renaissance, and a Federation that had truly risen from the Revival? Or this thing that had created it all, the Council and the Accord?_

 _I don't regret a thing I've done. Yes, the war was tragic. Yes, it came at a loss of too many… It is a burden I know I must always shoulder. But like the Federation, years after the Great Revival, the galaxy has risen into a new state from the great scourge. It is why we are talking about the Accord. If Chairman Goyle were still here, she would have been amazed by what she helped lay down. If Admiral Woods were still here, he would have been honored by what his sacrifice has given us._

 _I am thankful that President Bishop has given the Accord the prominence it deserves, now that we enter its decade long enactment. And I stand by ready to support it for many more years to come. And so do billions more, from Turian to Terran. We, together, are stronger! We fight for a common cause, ready to lay down our lives for it. We have a common goal and we celebrate our united resiliency. I assure you, the galaxy will face greater dangers ahead. But we are more prepared than ever before._

 _As the Protheans once united the galaxy countess millennia ago, we do so again, together!_

 _And as it was first said, from our collective ashes…_

 _Long live the Accord!_

 **Federal Council Fleet Admiral Jonathan Bowman – An excerpt from the opening Interview from History Channel's** _ **The Forrest Accord: Nation, Scourge, and Sacrifice.**_ 2178

* * *

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Hello Everyone!  
Thanks for reading!

And with that,  
The Second Act of Man's great gambit  
comes to a close.

To answer a Question left in the review by Alpenwolf,  
There is most certainly something big going on with the Geth,  
now, and in the past,  
and in my planned sequel following our two favorite Quarians  
(and the galaxy's most hated)  
We'll all learn of the interaction between them and the Geth,  
along with the hidden history between the Quarians and thier creation.

So, as we prepare to jump to the next act  
a year into the future,  
I leave you this saying

 _An optimist believes, from war, we achieve peace._  
 _A pessimist believes, from peace, we sow war._  
 _A realist knows, they are both right…_

So get ready,  
because everyone else will,  
A Great Gambit like this,  
doesn't play out without consequencs...

* * *

I want to express my sincerest gratitude.  
Since I started writing this story, I wanted to get this story idea out there.  
And I am so glad and thankful that many of you have come to enjoy this story.  
And equally so, I am thankful for those with constructive feedback,  
ensuring I can better myself as a writer and give you as great a story as I can.

To fellow readers and writers I had the honor of talking with,  
Thank you for your interest, and thank you for the help!

And most importantly, a special thanks to my beta-reader,  
 **MoonSword1994  
** My story and writing would be nowhere near where it is today without her help.  
I reccomend checking her large profolio of stories out.  
You are sure to enjoy her great work.

Thank You all again!  
Please feel free to leave a review and feedback!  
I would appreciate it very much.

Just as well, if you got any Questions,  
Put it in the Review or drop me a PM.  
I'd be glad to answer them.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\


	27. 26: Peace for our Time

**Intermission**

 **Chapter Twenty-Six: Peace for our time…**

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Hey Everyone!

So the next part of the story,  
it will take place around a year later in the future.

To bridge the gap,  
and instead of using a simple time line,  
Here are a series of news articles,  
dialog transcripts, reports, and more  
about what has been happening during the year.

I hope they would aid in world-building  
the galaxy of the Terran Gambit, and  
that you enjoy them very much.  
Equally also, they will foreshadow what would happen later on.

As for the article at the end of the last chapter, and the beginning of this one,  
The future articles would offer both foreshadowing for what is to come,  
as well as the effects of the events that occur and what everyone does.

This saying below speaks to the origin of the Accord.  
A special thanks to **Apollonir** for giving me the idea.

 _The Road to Peace is paved by the Legions of War;_  
 _The Road to Hell is paved with Good Intentions._  
 _Too often is it that they are the same road._

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

* * *

 _How would I best describe it? Well, we were at peace. The tensions were there, as you would expect; people in a rush for defense as we all moved our fleets and armies across the galaxy. But did any of us think that what would happen next actually would occur? No…_

 _It was diplomacy. It was politics. The old ways were disturbed, and we fought, as the Asari would once called in a 'civil' manner, to bring about normality to this new galactic life. The Terrans and their main benefactor, Humanity, were set to push their will in every form across the galaxy. We all tried to counter, with mixed results._

 _The Salarians, always the politically unstable one, were deadlocked. Their military leaders called for armament. Though Nerval was against it, the military, the STG, they all viewed him as the model to adapting in such short order. Their politicians denied the possible threat the Terrans posed. I think they had already conceded that they lost. What happened a few years later I personally thought was foreseeable. If they still had Nerval, they would still be a Union._

 _The Asari replied in its usual way. The flash and marvel of their old and grand culture. Goyle told me humans love shiny things, but apparently if it wasn't in the form of something of an intimate nature from the Asari, it didn't stick. What Terran culture lacked in refined sense, it made up for with equal infectiousness and its appeal to counter culture of any kind, including itself. And in the political arena, I haven't seen such maneuvering in all my life. Reminds me of that old saying, "Destroying the enemy from within". But I guess later on, they went for a more direct approach._

 _Our reaction was something that any would say was unthinkable for the time. We adapted. Oh, but it was hard. Fedorian took the lead, but it was a tug of war to drag us into the future. And when the Traditionalists were met in equal resistance from the Radicalists, it was a gamble he took in rallying the two. Fedorian offered both the common cause we should unite under, and the means to do so. I always knew that man was destined for his current position. But he was, then, still just an admiral. Everyone looked to him just for the means he gave them; the mentality was still the same, ignorance and fear. It was unfortunate Arterius had their hearts and minds instead._

 _We all wanted peace in the end. But what kind of peace was the question of the day. I know one man who even asked me that very question when he came home for the first time in so long. Everything was different now._

 _As for the Terrans, well… maybe it was best we didn't actually know how much trouble their own actions were causing for themselves. I mean, we did almost win…_

 **Consul Claudia Victus of the Senatoria of the Turian Hierarchy – Interview about the "Interbellum of 2168" from History Channel's The Forrest Accord: Nation, Scourge, and Sacrifice.** 2178

* * *

 **Tropico News Today –** July 6, 2167 **– New Honolulu, Pacifica, State of Polynesia**

 _ **Front Page:  
**_ _United Terran Federation joins Citadel Council! Seat on Council!_

 _Six days ago, a Terran diplomatic convoy arrived on the Citadel, a large alien space station acting as the capital of the galactic organization known as the Citadel Council. Leading this convoy was President Jonathan Bowman, the famed explorer and Captain of the_ _ **Excalibur**_ _,_ _during the early years of the nation._

 _The original purpose of the meeting between the two galactic powers was to formalize a peace treaty; as the initial attack on the FSS_ _ **William Clark**_ _constituted an act of war against the Federation. At the end of the first day on July 1_ _st_ _, news from the convoy reported that the Council had agreed to sign a formal treaty to bring all hostilities to an end and open diplomatic channels._

 _It was on the second day, in a video news recorded meeting between the Council and the Federation Convoy, that captured not only the treaty being signed by both parties but the act of the Council extending an invitation of membership to the President. As part of the Council's First Contact procedures, each new race is offered membership to have a voice on the Citadel. The Citadel Council as a whole can be compared to the old United Nations on Earth, with the seated Council races acting as its Security Council._

 _The initial terms of this membership was to offer recognition of the three races of the Federation. This would have seen Humanity becoming an 'Associated Member', the reaffirmation of the Batarians as an associated member, and the reentrance of the Quarians to the status of an associated member once more. Each one would be given an official embassy on the Citadel, allowing them to formally appeal to the Council and the three seated races. This type of membership is limited to only a handful of races, many spending more than a century trying to obtain the status. Many political analyses from Council space considered the offer incredibly generous, some arguing the Council offered the higher status out of fear of the United Federation._

 _In contrast to Terran political analysis, President Bowman seemingly accepted the terms offered to them. But in a counter shock to Council political analysis, he then offered three conditions to accepting them._

 _1\. They would not sign the Treaty of Farixen, an intergalactic arms treaty that would have cut the Navy nearly in half._

 _2\. Federation military technologies would not be shared with the other races, and that the Federation would not recognize any of the Council's discriminative AI laws._

 _3\. The Terran people, including the three races and millions more in the Federation, demanded a unified membership status that, as Bowman stated, was "befit(ting) a superpower", stating that the United Terran People, "demand(s) for nothing less than a seat on the Citadel Council itself."_

 _In what could be viewed as a natural response by both sides, the entire political spectrum across the Council was in uproar over the event. Many in the Council and Federation saw it as Bowman's hidden declaration of war. The Turian Hierarchy Ambassador Quentius commented that the request was, "Unprecedented". In an interview by Council news media, Volus Ambassador Din Korlack was more critical, calling the demand, "A declaration of war in the most insulting form!"_

 _In the end, the Council would not be able to debate in fullness as to whether or not to accept Bowman's demands. In the early hours of July 3_ _rd_ _, a large fleet of pirate and raider ships from the uncivilized area of the galaxy called the "Terminus Systems" attacked one of the main economic centers of the galaxy: the planet of Illium. As a gesture of cooperation and a demonstration of force, Bowman reportedly deployed the Terran Fourth Fleet to Illium; and thanks to the superior leadership skills of Fleet Admiral Helen Valenzuela, the planet was liberated by next day's end, coinciding with Liberty Day._

 _For this action, it is now believed that the Citadel Council, after a passionate speech by President Bowman of the Federation's commitment to the Council's goals and visions, granted a seat to the Terrans; with the three races, human, Quarian, and Batarian being associated races on their own. Reports now indicate three Terran fleets are now positioned across Citadel space, filling in for the now depleted Citadel Fleet. Diplomatic convoys are being sent across Citadel space._

* * *

 **Palaven Military News: Special –** Terran Date: August 1, 2167 **– Cipritine, Palaven**

" **Thank you all for joining us. Today we have a special guest, Fleet Admiral Tiberius Fedorian. Thank you for meeting for this interview with Palaven Military News."**

" _Of course, thank you for having me."_

" **Now Admiral, it has been nearly two months since the start of the short conflict with the Terrans during their Skyllian Blitz. What can you tell us about your part in that?"**

" _After the Raid on the Citadel, I was ordered by the Council to investigate intelligence reports of a war between the Federation and the Hegemony. My mission was to investigate, establish contact with the Hegemony government, and report back to command."_

" **What transpired when you entered Batarian space?"**

" _My fleet traveled through an unused relay path heading to the Batarian home system. After the destruction the_ Destiny Ascension _, I was given only a small fleet. The rest from the Terminus border were diverted to the Citadel."_

" **Released reports from both the Hierarchy and the Federation stated that you were under the impression that the Hegemony still had control of the system."**

" _We… had very little to work with. Spies from every allied branch were being cut off by the Terrans. What we found instead were the Terrans deeply entrenched in the system, their fleets already fully sieging the planet. We had to be deep in the system as well to confirm that fact. Unfortunately, by the time I realized this, we had been detected and ambushed."_

" **In what manner did they send their forces to attack you?"**

" _They anticipated our attack pattern. They deployed a squadron of ships along a linear plane, blocking my way. My own forces were deployed similarly, but I elected to avoid contact. But to avoid them, we dropped from FTL. While in open space, we were attacked directly from below."_

" **From below… with that 'Hyperdrive' system?"**

" _With the massive void of space, all conventional ship travel is usually on the main solar plane of a system, it's where all the planets, stations, and resources in a system are. This means that strategic deployment of forces on a system level is two-dimensional; meaning all immediate movement of forces is two-dimensional. What we did not expect was that they would use their 'Hyperdrive' to deploy at a third dimensional position, undetected, aimed right at our ships' underbelly. Coupled with the linear formation I was in, and the damage they had done with so few ships was significant, at close range. By the time I redeployed my ships to match their plane of attack, the damage as done. It didn't take long to use their AIs to disable my ship and whoever else didn't retreat in time."_

" **Which resulted in your capture. How was your captivity with the Terrans?"**

" _Unlike with the Hegemony, I reasoned, and reasoned correctly, that the Terrans had no intention in escalating the war; knowing that eventually they would have peace with the Council. Which would mean the safety and care of my crew and myself before we were returned to the Council. I even met the admiral that attacked me. One Admiral Andrew Roland."_

" **The famed** _ **Admiral**_ _ **Blitzkrieg.**_ **What was your impression of the man that conquered a race in a single week?"**

" _Quite pleasant, actually. A career officer, as they call his kind in Terran space. He was a charming, but equally calculating man. When he met me the first time, he formally introduced himself and saluted me. It was a strange sight, their military salute is very similar to our own. Let the others in the Brass say what they want. Our two races have more in common than not."_

" **In what manner would you describe that?"**

" _We had a rather pleasant chat. We talked about their war with the Batarians, of our governments, and of our people. The first meeting gave an… interesting impression of this emerging fame of the human Terran's… bi-polar nature."_

" **How so?**

" _In that same sit down, across from the rather luxurious cell I was held in, he forced the surrender of the Hegemony from their infamous Commander Balak. He was open and friendly with me. In a quick switch, he was cold and hostile to Balak to the point of threatening to destroy Khar'Shan outright if he didn't surrender. Even bombed the capital in front of us as a show of force."_

" **Such a threat seems standard to military protocol."**

" _Enemies of the Hierarchy know it as being a simple matter of course for us. They still acknowledge it because we would do it anyway. But it has been so long since anyone in the Hierarchy resorted to such tactics. I think the last time was with Admiral Junius during the new Rebellion. When Roland did it, there was something personal about it. He feared what he might have to do, equally driven to commit the action because of it. Not because he didn't want to, per say, but… that he had already done so once before._

" **Terran history states the Great War on their home world was only in the past few decades. He was a veteran?"**

" _I've read stories, personal accounts of those who fought in the Unification Wars thousands of years ago. What we have here, with the humans recent emergence to the galactic scene, bares great similarities to when we made contact with the Citadel."_

" **According to them, they are quite a young race. They were not even a space faring race a hundred years ago."**

" _They… advanced swiftly. But I saw how they have organized themselves. They were more than eager to show me the empire they had carved for themselves out in the Traverse. What they did in those few years rivals what we have done in centuries. If they said they had been here for over a millennia, I would have been more inclined to believe it. What they have is a solid foundation, a culture, a… tradition, like us."_

" **What do you mean?"**

" _There's an old Turian Naval saying from the Krogan Rebellion, when we compared ourselves to the Krogan. It was one that Roland told me they also have, near word for word, if the translators are working anyway:_

It takes a few years to build a ship, but it takes centuries to build a tradition.

" _The humans can build ships as fast as a Quarian can strip mine an asteroid. They work quickly like a Salarian; rest they need, but rest they do not take when they know they can continue to build from a drive that matches a Krogan on bloodrage. But they have a cultural heritage, the pride and tradition like we have to run effectively; a discipline the Krogan lacked, but this new upstart has. Unlike us, they took what they had and continued it into the stars. That makes them a truly capable people; a goal, a cause, a past that has empowered their future."_

" _Quick and agile… Hmmm."_

" **I'd like to go back to your mention that they are like us when we made contact with the Council. As any historian would agree, that was a very radical change point for both us and the Citadel Council** _."_

" _Rightfully so. Our emergence brought the end of the Rebellions and saw our own quick rise as one of the dominant races in the galaxy. What the Terrans did, unique in its own way, still shares a resemblance to what we did. But history is by nature, repetitive. And it is on that line I wonder, what end did they bring about?"_

" **The galaxy has seen an era of peace for over a millennia."**

" _Ha ha, that, that they would argue otherwise. But possibly, what new event could they have ushered in instead? A Terran Golden Age… or a scourge…"_

" **Should we be fearful of what they can do later?"**

" _We should be ready. We have enough hindsight to translate it to a decent amount of foresight. As one of the few to have gone against them and study them closely, we must be ready. Unlike anything we have seen in so long, we must not simply adapt, but progress to match the Terrans."_

" **In what manner?"**

" _Tactics, strategies, technology, leadership! Nothing but a revolution is needed to combat a potentially revolutionary enemy like them. As a Fleet Admiral, I will make those reforms. With the backing of my fellow admirals, like Parrus and Toma, generals such as Partinax and Corinthus, and Primarchs such as Redgeia and Arterius, the Terran's emergence shall mark the reformation of the Hierarchy military."_

" **Reformation? What can we see of reformation?"**

" _A change… a change in mentality. Those who may oppose the Terrans want us to match them simply with their ship count, firepower, and technology. All shall come in due time. But we must change this tiring mentality we have been stuck in. People blame the reforms of the past for weakening us before the war with the Batarians. But it is where our enemy excels at most, and it must be where we match them with equal, if not greater, force."_

" **What can we achieve from this change?"**

" _This great adage expresses this new doctrine,_

'If you want peace, prepare for war…'

" **Is it Terran?"**

" _In fact, Mr. Ravatoria, it is a very ancient Turian saying, though by what measure the human call ancient, it is for them as well. If the Terrans were to want war, our new strength will stop them, since I hold no doubt the opposite is true._

" **If done correctly…"**

" _From war, we get peace… But if we do this wrong, from peace, we get war…"_

* * *

 **Citadel News Network: News headlines of the Terran Month of August and September.**

 **August 1, 2167  
** _Human Terrans spread out across galaxy in unheard of numbers in wake of First Contact.  
Terran State Department rushing to deal with international incidents being caused by them._

 **August 4, 2167  
** _President Bowman announces 'Five Year Plan' to grow Federation Economy and match the Asari Republics' size.  
Terran Businessmen confident it won't end with millions starving this time! _

**August 7, 2167** _  
Outbreak of Hawtia Virus on colony of Nevos: Council votes to send relief aid in.  
Councilor Goyle promises doctors and aid in the hundreds of thousands!_

 **August 10, 2167  
** _Terran Football Championship XXVIII ends with New Manchester United beating defending champ Eden Prime Great Constant 3-2.  
Constant Police successfully prevent riots from destroying 60% of city!_

 **August 12, 2167** _  
Against Council's advice. Terrans establish an Embassy on Turchanka!  
Ambassador Wyatt to Krogan Race: Nothing can go wrong!_

 **August 16, 2167** _  
Councilor Nerval surprises political realm by voting with Councilor Goyle to repeal the Treaty of Farixen in a 2-2 deadlock!  
Primarch Cassiud's rejection of adding new dreadnoughts met with criticism by Reformist and Radical Bloc._

 **August 21, 2167** _  
Turian Hierarchy successfully reverse engineered part of Terran ship production techniques.  
Fedorian and Arterius promises rapid ship construction for the future._

 **August 22, 2167  
** _Illium remains firmly under Terran Control;  
Terran President Bowman promises turnover to Republics eventually._

 **August 25, 2167** _  
Extranet slow restoration allows Terran Internet to compete in market.  
TT&T announces record sales for Internet services in Council Space!_

 **September 1, 2167** _  
All Terran Medical Staff recalled from Nevos after turning several Asari patients into cyborg collective by mistake.  
Terran Doctors claimed they did it 'For Terra and Science'._

 **September 3, 2167** _  
Terran TV show 'Doctor Who' takes Salarians by storm!  
Salarian fanbase already divided between the 41_ _st_ _and the newly regenerated 42_ _nd_ _Doctor._

 **September 6, 2167** _  
Citadel Association of Psychiatry declares Human Psychologists best in galaxy:  
Can cure mental conditions of every race, except their own (and Vorcha)._

 **September 11, 2167** _  
Terrans commemorate 17_ _th_ _Resiliency Day by welcoming twenty million former slaves as Terran citizens.  
Millions more expected in the coming weeks._

 **September 15, 2167** _  
Terran Congress raises debt ceiling by a hundred trillion dollars to build new fleet;  
Galactic stocks up with the Volus Central Bank buying most of new Terran Debt._

 **September 20, 2167** _  
Salarians promise to figure out 'Warp Drive' by year's end.  
Terran High school student promises to do the same by end of Semester._

 **September 30, 2167** _  
New Hierarchy Naval Battle Exercises begins;  
Fedorian plays role of Terran Invasion Force;  
Cassiud still has yet to endorse new changes._

* * *

 **Salarian Intelligence Report:** STG Agent Solus: Description: Terran Naval Ship Classification

 **General:** The Terran-human fleet is a technological and industrial marvel. From a simple glance, the humans' capabilities are abundantly clear. But taking notes of the inner working, there are key facts that could decide whether a battle goes their or our way, if war occurs.

Terran ships use latest human technology. Far ahead of ours in many aspects. Entire form of FTL different than ours. But many basic parts are the opposite. Life support systems, power distribution, interconnecting computer connections are very primitive to ours. Hull metal composition suggests even large flagship types are weaker than our dreadnoughts. Shielding systems, though entirely energy based, are rated to be weaker to kinetic barriers of similar ship type and use. Since Contact, activity at their shipyards suggests they have been rushing to retrofit their fleet to match ours, adapting Quarian and captured Batarian technology.

Other features worth noting: Core computer systems are far more advanced than ours; AI housed in them gives definitive cyber advantage. Powering all of them is pure antimatter, energy reactors output of one flagship greater than quarter of current Salarian fleet. Unlike the guns of average dreadnought, theirs on a battlecruiser are far more powerful, can easily punch through most armor. But slug velocity is three to five times slower and at a significant low rate of fire, limiting effective combat range.

Terran heat storage and static energy conversion systems are entire millennia ahead of ours. A Terran fleet can remain engaged in combat and only stop when ammunition or fuel is exhausted. By comparison, our fleet has only two or three rounds of active combat until ship heat or static sync is full. Though Terran ships are built to endure longer combat, analysis of weapons and known tactical deployments indicates nearly entire fleet must fight in 'knife fighting' range of space combat to achieve maximum combat effectiveness.

Specified below are recovered details of each ship type.

 **Scout:** A broad category of ships. Ranging from small corvettes to heavy frigates, size from one hundred to four hundred meters. Crew complement varies from fifty-two hundred personnel. Armor complements of energy-based shielding and magnetic hull polarization to strengthen hull if shields should fail. Energy shields capable of deflecting greater range of projectiles, including energy weaponry. Hull polarization designed to strengthen against armor-piercing rounds. Overall hull strength based on size of ship. Armament consists of plasma based 'phaser cannons', Terran counterpart of laser based GARDIAN defense systems.

Main offensive weaponry is 'Photon Torpedo', large antimatter based salvo missiles. Currently estimated to carry around fifty, one-milligram anti-matter warheads, using mass effect mass manipulators to deliver a clearly stronger strike than our cruisers' main guns at several tens of kilotons. May also carry 'Omni-directional' missile pods as a secondary payload, but is not standard. These ships lack magnetic weaponry found in larger ships.

Ships use 'Warp Drive'. Exact design still unknown, but uses energy to manipulate space to push ship to FTL. On this size of ships, it can allow up to five times faster speeds than our FTL. Like mass effect FTL, size and mass of a ship affects FTL speeds. This FTL method is considered 'secondary', all ships are equipped with this technology. Is also used to create, according to civilian manual schematics, a passive 'warp static field', which oddly creates an artificial gravity fields. Scout ships do not come equipped with main FTL 'Hyperdrive'.

Public records indicate that more than half of Terran Navy is comprised of these ships, explaining ability to build them in large numbers. Acts as primary exploration vessel, not suitable for war. But ships, when formed into attack wolf packs, are extremely dangerous. Name classification based on famous explorers, common phrases, and locations.

 **Cruiser:** Divided in two main categories. Both constitute 35% of Terran Navy. 60% light, 40% heavy.

Light Cruiser: Main designs at three to seven hundred meters. Crew complement at one hundred and fifty to five hundred personnel. Same armor and armament complement to Scout, but stronger given increased general size. These ships now carry Hyperdrive Engines. Most of Terrans need for element zero comes from managing antimatter reactors. Public records indicate that hyperdrive works by tearing a 'hole' in space to an underlining dimension that exists parallel to normal space, but is far smaller.

Designed for scientific missions, but easily able to fight off larger class ships thanks to larger design. In spite of classification, more similar to Council heavy cruiser in terms of size and crew complement. Name classification based on cities and towns; can occasionally overlap with battlecruisers.

 _Sidenote_ : Terran ship design diverges in two different directions from heavy cruiser below and light cruiser above. Smaller tier ships have a more round, smooth design; comparable to early Asari and current Salarian designs. According to civilian records, ships traveling at warp work on a similar principle to aerodynamics; travel faster with more streamline design. Upper tier ships follow a more simplistic, rectangular layout, a relationship similar to Turians. More dependent on hyperdrive for traveling.

Heavy Cruisers: Main designs at eight hundred to thirteen hundred meters. Crew complement at seven to twelve hundred personnel. Armor and armament is far stronger than light cruiser, with greater torpedo complement, standard ODMM pods, and have a single magnetic based gun propelling one metric ton rounds. These rounds travel slower but hit with more overall kinetic damage due to increased mass.

Battle analysis indicates that in battle, heavy cruisers will have a far slower firing rate and effective range than Council ship counterpart, but will be far deadlier in close combat. It is believed hyperdrive engine can allow ship to quickly position itself at close proximity to target. In spite of classification as cruisers, more comparable to our dreadnoughts, lagging even less in general maneuverability. Unlike other weaponry, main anti-matter reactors required online to be able to fire main gun, which uses a large amount of power, unlike our Element Zero Mass Accelerators.

Designed for same role as light cruiser, but with more capabilities for role. Ship can be classified as dreadnoughts under Treaty of Farixen due to main weapon and size. Name classification based on geographical areas, by nature of human language, this can overlap with other type of cruisers.

 _ **Main distinction:** All ships above are not meant strictly for war. Naval doctrine emphasizes these ships for duel purpose roles for both military and civilian missions. All ships below are solely for war. 15% of Terran Fleet is this._

 **Battlecruiser:** The true 'dreadnoughts' of the Terran Navy. Main designs at eighteen hundred meters to two and a half kilometers. Crew complement of fifteen to twenty-five hundred. Far stronger armor and armament than before. Torpedo bays scattered across ship with numerous ODMM missile pods for close range support. Carry two magnetic rail guns. Fires same metric ton rounds, but guns have better range and rate of fire, still less than Council ships. Certain classes contain one runway for fighter support and assault (discussed under Aircraft Carrier).

With over several thousand of these ships, Terrans hold immediate and clear advantage in dreadnought count and fire power. Would recommend revisiting industrial capability of making more dreadnoughts. Arms race however, not advisable. Would doubt capability to logistically support more ships, since Terran government is struggling financially to support current fleet size. Possible tactic to fight them would be to outgun them in a range battle. Name classification based on cities, can occasionally overlap with light cruisers.

 **Aircraft Carrier:** Unique Terran design. Evolved from wet Navy counterpart of human home world; planet is mostly water, like Hanar. Has same secondary armaments and armor as battlecruiser, but main weapon is the four to six runways that houses between one to over two thousand fighters and bombers. Terran military doctrine puts true power of Navy in aircraft carriers. Demonstrated clearly over Illium. They are the tactical might of the Terran Offensive Doctrine. Their design is worth further investigation.

Main designs at two and a half to four kilometers. Crew complement of three thousand. Can carry up to five thousand more for pilots and another ten thousand for Marine and Army deployment. These ships are considered very vulnerable in close range due to being much more hollow and less reinforced than most ships. Because they are at their most vulnerable when deploying aircraft, they are heavily escorted like our dreadnoughts. Named after famous politicians and scientists.

 **Flagship:** Officially labeled as 'mobile star base', though for strictly political reasons. Large four-kilometer ships. Though new designs show smaller, more streamlined designs. Greater armor and weaponry than battlecruisers. Design similar to human "dreadnoughts" of wet Navies centuries ago. Has a large sloped tip in front. Can ram other ships, but originally such feature was for appearance. As shown by _Destiny Ascension_ , ship can be possibly destroyed as well while ramming; feature more suitable against smaller ships.

Features two runways so ship can serve as a smaller aircraft carrier like battlecruiser. Along with additional armament, ships come equipped with three main guns. Uses two metric ton rounds, but has same slow fire rate and minimal range as heavy cruisers. These ships acts as, as their name suggests, flag ships for most the Terran fleets and flotillas. Doctrine states that for every thousand ships, one is built in turn for the commanding admiral. Until recently, ship's existence was highly controversial, cost of ship nearly driving Federation into bankruptcy. In spite of appearance, it must be noted that it is more probable these ships are not actually suited for combat without heavy escort. They are a strategic element in the Terran Navy, acting as an admiral's ship to lead a fleet than to lead into combat. Name classification derives from poetic, historic, and meaningful phrases from Terran languages.

* * *

 **Section 14 Internal Monitoring: Dialog Transcript –** Target: Doctor Dorsi D'Gona, Admiral Marcus Junius **– Subject: Therapy Session –** Date: September 9, 2167

 **DD** : Good Morning, Admiral. It's good to see you again.

 _MJ_ : Morning, Doctor D'Gona.

 **DD:** Please take a seat. How was your Election Day, yesterday?

 _MJ_ : I voted… as required by law.

 **DD** : The Terrans value democracy greatly.

 _MJ_ : At least they hold no delusions of it… in private anyway. The Asari back on Thessia view such systems as truly being the pinnacle of a collective government. The Terrans know better, though I can tell they won't admit it.

 **DD** : What proof do you have to support this?

 _MJ_ : Their President holds more power than the Primarch! The humans prefer leaders with power, to act now and ask questions later. Though in turn, they just want the right to quickly dispose of them at will. Truly that is a complex government. Power truly derives from the people.

 **DD** : One could argue... Tell me. How was your weekend?

 _MJ_ : I was in staff meetings with Admiral Woods. There's not much more to say… that isn't classified.

 **DD:** I see.

 _MJ_ : Let's, uh… get this over, shall we?

 **DD** : You seem eager to leave.

 _MJ_ : I don't need any counseling! Some may be scarred by what happen to them. But I am fine. If I weren't, I wouldn't be serving as an admiral!

 **DD** : So what happened on Camala and Logasari…

 _MJ_ : Is non-consequential to what I am doing now!

 **DD** : Well then… If you are willing, answer this question I have had since you were assigned to me.

 _MJ_ : If you wish. What would you ask of me?

 **DD** : Why has the famed Marcus Junius, the hero of the Turian Hierarchy, the descendent of the Primarch that united the Turian race millennia ago, aligned with the Terran Federation?!

 _MJ_ : … I… uh…

 **DD** : No, wait… I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked you that. If you're not ready to talk of it–

 _MJ_ : No, please, my apologies… Before I answer, if I may ask. Why are you here yourself?

 **DD** : I was hired by the government.

 _MJ_ : The Terrans, with an army of trained and experienced psychologists and therapists, hired a foreigner? I would think not.

 **DD** : You don't think so?

 _MJ_ : … Though we did not intend to at first. We go, ' _To follow knowledge like a sinking star_.'

 **DD** : And we have discovered. Beyond our imagination. ' _Beyond the utmost bound of_ _ **human**_ _thought_ …'

 _MJ_ : I still remember, I think, of reading a report of a scout ship picking up a group of escaped slaves at the edge of the Traverse. My, how long ago that was.

 **DD** : I would imagine.

 _MJ_ : I had been briefed on the destruction of the Hegemony colony of Aratoht just before. Days later, the war broke out. We lost four clusters and I sent the Fleet to hold Philippi so we can launch a counter attack… We all know how that went.

 **DD** : Philippi… Tell me, Admiral. Do you blame the humans for what happened to you over Philippi?

 _MJ_ : Humanity, this late arriving race from the backwaters of the galaxy. Did they cause the war? Of course. If that knowledge were to ever be leaked, the wrath of the Hierarchy would descend on them. Turian wrath versus Terran scourge, Bowman's scourge. But for what happened to me? No. They bare no blame from me on that.

 **DD** : Then what, or who?

 _MJ_ : What threat they want me to aid them against I will do so. The Terrans have given me the means to punish the two men that damned me all those years ago. Cassiud was a coward; he failed to save me… us that day. And the man we trusted to prevent the war, a traitor; Ambassador Licinius Crassus… he put me in chains. And with all the power the Terrans afforded to me, I'll find that man. And I'll gut his gizzard myself!

 **DD** : Interesting, interesting… Turian wrath, or your wrath?

 _MJ_ : I guess so… I guess I am still affected by what happened. I guess the humans were right to send me here.

 **DD** : We all have our troubles. But we must confront them, and with a clear mind when we do so, if we wish to win.

 _MJ_ : You're right… Tell me though, Doctor. I have, by my own emotional outburst, answered your question. But what about you? What was your reason for getting involved in this great Terran mess?

 **DD** : Admiral Junius, you wish for revenge. You wish for a resolution. I won't sway you from the idea. My job is to simply clear your mind of conflicting thoughts and emotions. What course of action you take is truly on your own conviction. But why I am here, is to aid the humans, this Terran nation, because someone must. I feel a sense of duty. But more so, I do it as a form of thanks.

 _MJ_ : Liberation, freedom is a debt that can never be paid in full.

 **DD** : I owe my debt to one man. And now, I must help them, save them, from their great secret.

 _MJ_ : And that we do. And unknowingly so do millions more. But they must be careful.

 **DD** : How so?

 _MJ_ : The Terrans have created friends, they have forged countryman. But they are divided, and they are a bright beacon; inviting an enemy of the highest caliber to oppose them. From the entire whole galaxy, that enemy may emerge. Or just as bad, it may be formed from within.

* * *

 **New York Times:** October 30, 2167: **New York, Earth, United Sol**

 **Front Page:**  
 _Halloween Trials come to a close;  
Second Fleet to begin withdrawal._

 _Today, at the earliest hours in United Terran Coordinate, officials at the European Union Court of Justice in Nuremberg, Germany have announced an end to the first series of military tribunal trials for the Batarian Hegemony war criminals captured at the end of the Skyllian Blitz. In an unexpected move, only 3,478 of the over 4,000 high-ranking Hegemony military, political, and economic leaders were convicted on numerous charges of both war crimes and crimes against sentient life. These included: slavery, de-sentientization, political persecution, mass torture, religious persecution, and massacre of civilians._

 _The now christened 'Halloween Trials' began on the first of October, with the first trials being held in Geneva at the Supreme Court for the highest-ranking Hegemony Officials. On the Board of Judges were Exodus Superior Court Judge Gregor Rudi as Head Judge, Naval Judge Samantha Tarim, Army Judge Jiang Yangtze, and, as required by the treaty with the Citadel Council, Thessian High Court Judge Patel Flarose._

 _As also required by being a member of the Council, the Federation must assure all of those on trial have legal access to defense attorneys across the galaxy, provided they can afford to pay for their services. Councilor Goyle's move to immediately freeze all foreign assets was halted in a 2-2 vote the month before. Still, many have lost considerable wealth in the raid on Illium, while a growing group of skilled attorneys in Council space have pledged to refuse to give their assistance in their defense. While the Federation plans to appoint the finest prosecuting attorneys to the bench, several private Terran and Council groups have pledged funds for top tier prosecuting lawyers for the second and third round of trials for lower criminals, determined to let no one escape justice._

 _One of the first closed door trials was for the highest ranking survivor, Commander Ka'Hairal Balak of Hegemony Intelligence, and was reported to have been concluded earlier this month. Now found guilty for aggravated war crimes and crimes against sentient life, he will not be facing the same punishment as others of similar convictions. Having been given a bargain in exchange for surrendering, he will face the lesser punishment of life under house arrest. His current whereabouts are currently unknown._

 _Many others were of varying positions, including generals, admirals, high position officers, and upper class individuals who helped and actively aided the Hegemony state commit these crimes. Given their status, a majority of them being slave owners or dealers, have been found guilty, but their sentences have not been released._

 _It is believed that this is due to the ongoing congressional debate involving the repeal of the clause from the United Earth Rehabilitation Bill of 2112, which was carried over into the Federation; the clause illegalizes capital punishment as a form of punishment for all crimes against the Federation. In spite of the push by numerous politicians, including the Kite's Nest Governor Ja'hal Derik, who headed the main resistance movement in the Hegemony, Congress failed to repeal the bill back on September 28, losing 147-167 in the house and 10-24 in the Senate, then again on October 10 with similar numbers._

 _As news of the convictions spread across the territories in former Batarian space, Secretary of Defense Beatrice Holst has announced the withdrawal of the majority of the Federation's Second Fleet. In the statement, though the fleet will officially be based over Khar'Shan until the completion of the Tenth Fleet, a majority of the fleet will be sent back to Terra Nova to resume original mission objectives as well as to prepare to undergo a decade long retrofit. The Second and Fourth Army will, however, be reinforcing its occupation force for the foreseeable future._

* * *

 **Department of Internal Affairs:** Report: Quarian integration into Federation **; From: Secretary of Internal Affairs Ashton Castro – To: President Jonathan Bowman;** Date Stamp: November 15, 2167

Mr. President,

As requested last month, below is my brief summary analysis regarding the integration of the Quarian race into Terran society. A more detailed analysis shall be sent with statistical data by the end of the month. After analyzing the October reports from DIA offices across the Federation, I can happily conclude that the Quarian integration in the last four months has been successful thus far.

As for the terms agreed to join the Federation, about two million Quarians have arrived and settled on Earth, with Project: Jericho being a major success so far. Based on data of residency declaration from the FCC, many Quarians have grouped up near the southwest region of the USNA, which according to reports bears a striking resemblance to their old home world. An interesting side note: Quarians like cactuses.

Extra precaution has been taken when introducing dextro amino acid crops and livestock from the Turian Fleet. Several empty dextro garden worlds in our space have now been receiving the needed support to turn them into basket worlds to feed our people. As for crops grown on our existing farms, we do not fear humans being contaminated since research has proven that dextro organisms are of no danger to humans, although we must make it clear that we cannot metabolize dextrose food. As for the billions of other levo-based citizens, this can prove somewhat problematic.

On the main Quarian colony of New Haestrom, we have pushed to quickly build up the cities and infrastructure on the planet, as a majority of the Quarians shall be living here. ExoGeni has won the bidding to build the colony's infrastructure at $750 billion, while United SEC has won the bidding against Eldfell-Ashland to establish helium and anti-proton production over the local gas giant and star, at $200 billion. QCI has been contracted as per earlier agreement to build a new star base and shipyards, with an expected completion date of 2175.

As the Joints Chiefs have debriefed you about earlier, the Roma system shall be our base of operations into the Delta Quadrant, or as Council maps calls it, the Terminus Systems. At the moment, the Fourth Fleet will be stationed in Roma and the neighboring Newton system to defend the border. These new military facilities shall be used to house the new Sixth Fleet upon completion. Future statehood will soon be possible, as several million humans have agreed to help colonize the cluster, with the nearby Ontarom in the Newton System being colonized. We have been assured by the Office of Scientific and Intellectual Endeavors that they will figure out how to fix Ontarom's moon in a few months.

As you know, the Quarians have an abysmal immune system. But thanks to the Sirta Foundation's latest breakthrough, we can effectively remove that obstacle, as a way to help the Quarians adapt to living planet side and to increase our relationship with the general community. DoH officials have briefed me that they have developed a new nano-bot immunity supplement, which has already received FDA approval to be used. It is my recommendation we activate article 89-117 of the Species Preservation Act, making it mandatory for all Quarians to get the immunity supplement, effectively giving the population a human level immune system. The vaccination will work on Quarians over the age of four Council years old. I am sure they will be very appreciative once they are liberated from their suits.

As given the history of the Quarians, current Quarian-Syntha human relationships have not been ideal. But we do not believe any major confrontation shall occur. By an apparent 'order' from Terran-Quarian Ambassador Miri Ghirn and Fleet Admiral Zaren Vali, the populace has been willing to work out the distrust with the AIs. Relying on them could be helpful; they were the most powerful figures in the Fleet and could help with smoothing transition. While the Society of Synthetic Life has promised to put in their effort to support integration, their stance that the Geth are not synthetic life has ironically not helped in anyway.

Gathering as many Quarians scattered across the galaxy is of the highest importance. Operation: Homecoming during the war has been somewhat successful in bringing home nearly half a million Quarrian pilgrims from across the galaxy. About several thousand more are still scattered across the galaxy; we have sent forces to be more direct in their retrieval. The rather aggressive way we have coordinated it has sparked diplomatic backlash, but Goyle has been able to dodge the topic.

On a similar line of topic, Congress has signed a bill officially retracting the exile status of every Quarian exiled by the Fleet. This bill has been very polarizing among the Quarian population. Many are against reintegration with criminals of that nature, even more so than with AIs. Other are still angry over the large series of exile trials nearly half a century ago during the tenure of Admiral Dorin Tredis, a rather controversial person, based on a conversation I had with Ambassador Ghirn.

The bill itself does outline who exactly will be pardoned for their crimes. Those with crimes on the nature of 'mistakes', or are low status by our laws will be fully pardoned and welcomed to the Federation. More hardline criminals by both Quarian and Terran standards could face a retrial and possibly be sent to our prisons. There is already protest over this, but it is important we gather all Quarians to the Federation. Besides, with the kind of treatment Quarians receive from the outer galaxy and the modern rehabilitation facilities we have, I feel certain many would rather return and be in a safe, humane prison in their new home near their own kind, than be scattered among the stars.

I feel I must address something about the Species Preservation Act. The Quarians' entrance has turned this bill, which frankly was a minor procedural act thirty years ago, into the forefront of current politics. Laws are now in place, which do technically violate the Constitution. I do feel hesitant on enforcing them, given they are quite intrusive, with one being so much as essentially being forced breeding. But I do agree, for the good of the Quarian race and the Terran people, they should be enforced. In the long run, they shall be thankful. But best we put effort on selling it to them. The Quarians are a proud, independent race, like us humans. And the galaxy will be watching whether our treatment of them will be different, or be oppressive in the reverse direction. Best we deal with this properly.

I'll be sending you another report on a related issue. The Quarians and the Turians now living with us are very vocal on gun rights and the Sixth Amendment. My guess is that the right wing Nationalists are going to want you to address that at some point.

* * *

 **National Broadcasting Channel: Headlines of the Month of November and December**

 **November 1, 2167  
** San Francisco Giants wins TBL Galaxy Series against Trans-Pacific Rival, the Tokyo Giants, in a smashing 15-inning Game 7!  
SF pitcher Adams Hobstocker named MVP!

 **November 4, 2167  
** Harper Finances opens a thousand new Costcos on Council Home worlds:  
Aliens amazed by the idea of 'Buying in Bulk' and 'Free Samples'!

 **November 8, 2167  
** Terran AI citizen uses loophole in Council AI laws to commit several crimes across Council space, claiming that as 'Government property', he can't be held responsible. Government refuses to punish AI until Council law officially views him as a 'person'.

 **November 12, 2167  
** Hierarchy Imperial Navy announces completion of replacements of ships lost months earlier.  
Primarch Cassiud still considering Admiral Fedorian's plan to add new dreadnoughts to fleet as Traditionalist Bloc pushes back.

 **November 15, 2167**  
Alien Information Dealer known as 'Shadow Broker' wreaks havoc by releasing Federal Government information; Terran FCC fights back by preemptively 'leaking' documents before Broker!

 **November 19, 2167  
** Fornax Entertainment completes last buyout of Illium-based Venius Studio:  
Full Monopoly on Galactic Adult Entertainment

 **November 25, 2167**  
'Giant Turkey' for Terran Embassy's American Thanksgiving Dinner escapes cage on Citadel, creates mayhem on Presidium.  
Hundreds of thousands of dollars in damages.

 **November 29, 2167  
** Citadel News Network announces plans to buy out major Council based news medias to compete against Terran based media conglomerates.

 **December 5, 2167**  
Initial Holiday Sales skyrocket to record levels as general economic trends put Terran Economy to surpass Salarian Economy by next year's end!

 **December 8, 2167  
** Gold and Silver prices continue steep drop in Council space as Treasury Department announces new bills and coins will be minted with more silver and a new gold outline. Dollar value expected to increase and strengthen.

 **December 10, 2167**  
Councilor Goyle announces massive social service plan on Citadel to give orphaned children a home. Supported by Turian-Asari Ambassador Victus;  
Presidium rich being forced to pay for it.

 **December 12, 2167  
** Sol Fleet scattered out across border with Council to secure key relay junctions.  
Turian Admiral Fedorian orders addition ships to Turian-Batarian area to shore up defenses.

 **December 16, 2167  
** Volus CEO Fere Nilva of Tapari LTD arrested by order of Councilor Goyle for refusing to 'Donate' into Citadel Orphan Fund. Goyle adds insult by saying  
'If you want something edible, don't drink Tapari!'

 **December 18, 2167**  
Scientific Disaster!  
Salarian's surprise unveiling of first warp capable ship ends with it exploding.  
Terran Intelligence denies involvement; claims Salarians 'reversed the polarity' incorrectly during start up.

 **December 21, 2167  
** Shadow Broker releases classified Terran Military files indicating an abandon secret Super Soldier program called 'Zeta', which involved kidnapping children to raise into genetically modified soldiers. Terran Military criticized for not being original, while Turian Military makes side remarks about not thinking of it sooner.

 **December 24, 2167  
** Councilor Sparatus hospitalized by kitten given to him by Councilor Goyle for Christmas.  
Turian Embassy responds by retracting Sparatus' €50 gift card to her.

 **December 29, 2167  
** Hierarchy Colonial Primarch Desolas Arterius announces unveiling of new project later next month in cooperation with Turian Navy.  
Terran Intelligence yet to disclose any report on it.

* * *

 **Citadel News Network: December 31, 2167: Terran Embassy, Presidium, Citadel**

" _I am now standing outside on the Presidium, across the way from the Terran Embassy Complex. Can you hear me?"_

" **Yes, Joplin. I hear you. Can you describe to our audience what's going on?"**

" _Well Serena, right now, every Terran citizen on the Citadel… and what can be presumed to be countless more, are gathered here to celebrate the Terran New Year."_

" **Amazing! Would you explain to our audience about the Terran New Year and the celebration?"**

" _Today is the last day of the Terran UTC calendar. Known as New Year's Eve, people gather, either in public like here and on Zakara Ward, or in private with guests to celebrate the last day of the year and to usher in the next. Right now, at the request of Terran Councilor Goyle, the Presidium sky has been dimmed to simulate night, like it would be on Earth when the last day ends and the new day and year begins."_

" **It can be understood why there are so many Terrans, both human and others, celebrating. But what about everyone else?"**

" _Well Serena, like in the case of the Terran holidays, the Terran government has pushed and campaigned hard to promote their culture to the other races. Arguably, they have gotten many around to their celebration quicker than the Asari have with their own cultural dispersal programs."_

" **They are more… inviting?"**

" _Arguably so. Many here say that the human holidays are just inviting, with a simple message of social gathering and celebrating with friends and loved ones. While the different holidays hold special meaning to the humans in particular, many openly welcome others to join, for as the Terran saying goes, 'The more, the merrier'."_

" **It certainly seems that everyone is enjoying the event together, with colorful cone hats and drinking."**

" _Absolutely! As you can see here, the Embassy has placed a large screen above for everyone on the Presidium to see, and a large ball on a pole above it to recreate a similar event on the Terran home world. When the last twenty seconds of the year approaches, they will display a countdown on the screen in Terran numeral. The ball will descend the pole to represent the countdown. When it hits zero, the ball will touch down and the New Year begins. This is then followed by the launching of fireworks that Terran Ambassador Udina has reported are enough "to shoot down a battlecruiser". Then everyone shall sing this song called 'Auld Lang Syne'."_

" **What is the song about?"**

" _I'm reading here that it's about remembering the past, such as old friendships and personal past moments, and to give cheer as the old goes away and the new is ushered in."_

" **What an appropriate song to begin the New Year."**

 _Yes Serena, the song's origin… I'm now being told the last thirty seconds are about to approached, everyone here is gathering to watch as they begin the final countdown… Someone just gave me a hat and this paper whistle, let's see here… oh how fascinating, it inflates and makes a high-pitched sound! … The countdown has now begun! 19! 18! 17…"_

* * *

 **Salarian Intelligence Report: STG Agent Solus: Description: Terran Artificial Intelligence**

 **History:** Humanity has been on a quest to create artificial intelligence, quite arguably, long before they had even a concept of modern computing. Advanced robotics and artificial intelligence have appeared throughout human history in science studies, literature, and even art. At the turn of the dawn of their electronic computing this idea began to build up from a curiosity in fiction to the forefront of computer research.

Like most races, humans quickly excelled in creating the first types of artificial intelligent programmed machines. What we would refer to as the first forms of Virtual Intelligence, humans called a lesser AI, or 'dumb AI'. While the dangers of creating an AI capable of self-awareness, preservation, and unique thought have been around before their technology could come close to supporting it, it has only served as a driving force for the humans.

Unlike most races, Humanity came upon quantum computing at an early stage in their development. This technology played a key role in the early Terran 21st century, allowing already interconnected nations to strike at each other with great computational power. Development to full AI was slowed due to the prioritization of the digital capability of computers over neural integration of software and hardware in this turbulent time.

At the turn of human unity, the quest for sentient artificial intelligence was prioritized and quickly came to flourish. Unlike predicted staging to this point, the humans skipped what we consider numerous key developments in programs to achieve true AI. This meant that their first AI, named from their religious text as 'Adam', was significantly more advanced, both as a thought program and as an electronic sentient being, than its immediate predecessor. Unsurprisingly, this first human AI degraded due to an immediate lack of foundation support to hold it together. But from this, its successors had such a foundation to be created.

 **Overview:** With successfully creating sentient Artificial Intelligence, and being quite focused on preventing problems like synthetic rebellions, it has been the focus of the humans to make their AIs as close to organically humans as synthetically possible. To this end, each individual program has the same legal rights as an individual human. In status to the other races in the Federation, they are legally the same race as their creators.

When birthed, each AI's personality routine is created using the quantum resonance field of a giving particle, which is unique for every atomic particle. This particle is kept to allow personality backup in the event of AI destruction. This method also allows Terran AI to not be hardware locked to a quantum processor, similar to Quarian Geth. Upon activation, they are pushed into military service of their choice of a standard service length, before belong allowed to integrate into civilian life.

This lack of quantum locking makes each AI limited in their programming; a deliberate design by their creators. This means they actively display a mental capacity similar to organic humans, and are neurologically designed to be as flawed as the organic human. They also lack the ability, by default anyway, to interface with their code on both the upper and lower levels of the routines. This means the only changes to their routines are natural ones that occur from 'experiences', like organics. That and updates from the company that made them.

As they advanced and were produced, three generations of human AIs have come about. Derived from their version configuration, from an organic and mental point of view for both organic and synthetic, the AIs have different cultural personalities from it.

 **Note:** A curious case. Based on Terran research polls conducted, they have shown that the Synthetic-human have an overwhelming view that the Quarian created Geth AI are not true artificial intelligence, let alone sentient. This may draw from their surprisingly narrow view of AI life forms. In spite of extensive human research into swarm intelligence based machine learning, they only view quantum based AI as true AI. Interestingly, this has caused the anger of many Quarians, who have come to defend the Geth as a sentient life form. Idea of Synthetic racism quite interesting, will research further.

 _Basic breakdown of three current generations:_

 **Second Generation:** _Known as the Mark II, they are first series of AIs after the Mark I, 'Adam'. Considered by humans as the calmer and bland of the AIs. Of over 1,250,000 second generation AIs, very few have move on to other civilian type careers. Most stay in their original jobs as a ship AI for Terran Navy, logistics and drone AI for the Army, or combat assistance AI for the Marines. Many military officials prefer working with second generations to later models. Those who do pursue 'other things in life' are mainly politicians or scientists. All elected AIs in Congress are second generation AI. Among other AIs, they are the 'Parent Generation'. Last AI of generation made in 2139._

 **Third Generation:** _Also known as the Mark III. Commissioned in 2140, third generation are the most common of AIs in Federation, at over 20,000,000 different unique personalities, counting the few 'Twin' AIs made for study purposes. Follows same build up as second but generation personality is different. Terrans view them as more driven and emotional than last generation, made to exhibit greater emotional spectrum like humans. Most leave military upon end of service, pursuing large variety of occupations, blending in with organics. I have met third generation AIs personally. Based on observations and later research, most are indistinguishable from humans, though can be more erratic at times. This and later generations can exhibit ability to taste food and drink, with proper hardware interface, and can even be intoxicated, deliberately limiting processing power, but can turn off program at needed moments. In an underlying cultural relationship with other Terran AIs, comparable to human family structure, they are regarded as the 'older siblings'. This version ceased construction in 2159._

 **Fourth Generation AI:** _The Mark IV._ _Commissioned in 2160, fourth generation is latest model, but differences are only apparent in one major feature. Previous AIs can develop platonic relationships and attachments between one another, and organics. Fourth generations have sexual relationship subroutines. Can experience what humans call 'falling in love', but official records state no actual case of this occurring. Classified records indicate the organic humans hoped to force this change by chance rather than any specific programming. Aside from essentially being able to have a hormonally driven sex drive, very little difference from third generation. Based on personal observation and Terran AI culture, third and fourth generation AIs working as pairs most common. This generation treated as 'younger siblings'. Though partner pairing is common with third and fourth generations, only seen in military, all fourth generations are currently serving. Current estimates are at 500,000 AI currently active._

 **Future Generation AI:** _Current intelligence gathering suggests new model AI is under development. While Terran AI development has been focused on creating more human like AIs, future model may be more suited for active military roles. Similar to 'Adam', this version may be in lines of full and unconstrained AI, with far more capabilities and application, unlike 'organic' AIs._

* * *

 **Terran FIA 'Song Bird' Foreign Surveillance Program –** Target: Turian Hierarchy Colonial Primarch Desolas Arterius; Hierarchy R&D Commander Brigadier General Adrien Victus – **Subject: New Turian Military Project –** Date: January 15, 2167

DA: General Victus, I trust your new project is coming along?

AV: Of course, sir. Professor Thanix has already finished test trials and is in the final stages of tuning before we unveil it to Primarch Cassiud.

DA: Cassiud? No, no, that won't do. This project is a crowning achievement of our… reforms. We must show this to everyone!

AV: Everyone, sir? This is a highly classified project! Admiral Fedorian wanted this kept secret until we are at a status to have this technology standardized across the entire military!

DA: Now, Victus. Don't be naïve. Our _enemies_ are well aware we are making breakthroughs in this field. They want us to cower away in the dark, struggling to even grasp the idea of their technology as they use it to conquer us all.

AV: And the advantage to openly showcasing it? The Terrans are sure to react in subversion to stop us from discovering any more of their technology.

DA: Now, now, my dear boy. This is not _their_ technology! They have as much claim to it as the Protheans truly do to the Mass Effect drive. In their quick grab for power, they cemented this ridiculous notion that their achievement is unique to them. How pitiful the galaxy's response has been. The Salarians have failed to make any real achievements with their basic tech. And the Asari! Thousands of years of knowledge, and not a drop of wisdom! They jam their heads into the ground, in denial of everything, as the humans take what they want.

AV: And us?

DA: You, Fedorian, and I we saw what is happening. We took real action! Those pyjacks expected us to stand aside and flee like flightless birds! But we shall soar, like the hawks in the ancient skies of Palaven. Even Cassiud and the old order see merit in what we're doing. Soon, the galaxy will as well. A warning to the Terrans, but a new rallying cry for the true masters of the galaxy.

When the project is ready, leave everything else to me. We shall strike at the Terrans with our own swift advance. In their minds today… and soon-

AV: What Fedorian and I have built today are tools to defend us, not attack them. What we hold in our hands is meant to balance out this cosmic playing field. With the means to war, we secure the peace. Out of everything, this we know the Terrans will respect more than anything else.

DA: If Fedorian believes in that, then so be it. Let this 'peace' last then. Even I must admit, we need more time. Continue with the project, and I shall secure what funding and resources you need. We all hope for peace. But I will be ready for when the time does come…

* * *

 **Citadel News Network: Terra –** Terran Date: January 30, 2167

 **Main Headline:**  
Admiral Fedorian unveils First Turian Warp Drive and Hyperspace Radio!

Yesterday, Fleet Admiral Fedorian and General Corninthus unveiled in a last minute announcement at a public event, the newest ship in the Turian Navy over Palaven, the _HNV_ _Proficio_. Unlike any other ship from the Council races, it was the first ship to utilize a working Hyper-dimensional Space Manipulation Propulsion Drive, or in layman's term, the Warp Drive. Considered an exclusively Terran technology, the academia of the galaxy have come to be surprised by the rather simplistic physics surrounding the drive. In spite of that, the Salarian Union, who have publicly declared their intention to quickly replicate the engine, have made several failed attempts to construct a working model on a useful scale. Today, the Hierarchy has made that great leap forward instead.

Unveiling this new heavy cruiser, whose main weapon places it only a few metric tons and a few kilojoules short of dreadnought status, was seen initially as another new ship that was part of Admiral Fedorian's push for massive military build up in the wake of the Terran's entrance into the Council. This is all part of the military reform Fedorian has been spearheading, which has gained large traction among the Hierarchy Radical and Reformist bloc.

In the unveiling, the _Proficio_ left dock, escorted by Fedorian's ship, the _Fortune of Metaurus_. In revealing it was a warp driven ship, the _Proficio_ jumped to warp, leaving a bright light trail that was far more distinctive than Mass Effect FTL, a common occurrence from Terran ships jumping to low FTL speeds. The ship took around two seconds to arrive over the Navy military installation on the moon of Nanus, traveling just a few percent past light speed.

Waiting on the docking area of the spaceport was Terran Ambassador Ban Chao, invited at the last minute to see the demonstration up close. Upon witnessing the ship jump to warp to the Turian moon and back, Ambassador Chao gave the Hierarchy his personal congratulations on achieving warp drive. But he was then asked to witness a new demonstration by Turian Council Ambassador Quentius. There, another new invention from Turian R&D was unveiled.

Showing a large mechanical device, filling the size of a cargo bay, Ambassador Quentius activated the device where, through a cut open part of the device, a large bright light flashed out during use. He then demonstrated the use of the machine to the Terran Ambassador and a small group of news reporters as he opened instant communications with Colonial Primarch Arterius on Taetrus, approximately thirty thousand light years and a few relay jumps from Palaven. With that, Ambassador Chao, hiding shock and amazement, promptly left. It was clear then that the Hierarchy had done something even the Terrans didn't expect. They now possessed hyperdrive technology.

In a following statement by Admiral Fedorian, both the working model of the warp drive, and hyperdrive communications system remain in a very early stage of development. But a very critical blow has been struck, both to the Federation and the Traditionalists in the Hierarchy. Early this morning, Primarch Cassiud finally caved, announcing his full support, following heavy pressure from the Senatoria and the Council of Primarchs. With this, full funding will be diverted to Admiral Fedorian's reforms, ensuring faster progression for modernizing the Turian military. This includes new technological fields to explore, while adding a planned five thousand ships and ten dreadnoughts into the fleet and a shuffling of the Army officer corps.

Equally under pressure from a public outcry, the Terran Congress has convened a congressional hearing with the Terran military to determine how the Turians came across their hyperdrive technology. Unlike warp drive, which was deemed to be quickly picked up by the Council races in a short time, hyperdrive technology was considered a very well guarded Terran secret. With relatively cheap hyperspace radio systems, short range FTL communications makes it far easier to coordinate ship movement without deploying expensive comm buoys.

Rumors are now spreading that the Turians have successfully infiltrated the Terran military. This has created a fear of a major internal backlash against Turian-Terrans now serving in the Terran military. Terran Military Intelligence denies all allegations, saying no such breach exists. All the while, Colonial Primarch Arterius, the largest political backer to Fedorian's reforms, has made it clear that the only contribution of the Terrans was the knowledge that such technology was possible, stating that the work done was done from scratch by, ' _Imperial science and effort_ '. He later made this statement,

" _The magical shroud of the Terrans' science has been vanquished by the might of the Turian nation. No technology is too far beyond our grasp. A new era of advancement begins_!"

* * *

 **New Haestrom Post –** February 12, 2168 **– New Rayya City, New Haestrom, Territory of Kepler Verge –** _ **Editorial Section**_

 **Terran Valentine's Day:  
New Interspecies Love, and The Rekindle of the Old.**

 _Valtine'Mascer: Senior Editor of the New Haestrom Post._

 _Do you feel that love is in the air? Tell me, does it feel like the cold moist air of a New Haestrom morning; the ever light scent of honey and Talmancer roses, just floating in the breeze? Or does it feel like the thick poisonous air of Omega, forcing you to put your facemask on as the foul, annoying stench clogs your filters? You can thank, (or blame) the humans for that. According to the Terran calendar, the human holiday of Valentine's Day is coming this Sunday, during the short month of February the whole month is dedicated to it. (And you thought that the humans waiting for an underground mammal to determine the coming of spring or gathering to watch people tackle each other for several hours was weird!)_

 _This human holiday is the time of year when humans show an increase in affection for those they have strong romantic feelings for. Wherever you go in the Terran galaxy, you will see nothing but red, pink, and glittering sparkles, as symbols of inaccurate human hearts and the ancient human deity known as Cupid with his bow and arrows of weaponized love are decorated about. It is at this time when couples, young and old, begin new relations, reaffirm enduring love, or in an ironic twist, breaking off such relations to create new ones. (Human divorce rates are abnormally higher than the rest of the galaxy.)_

 _If I have noticed anything, the idea of inter-species relations deeply fascinates these humans. How would I know? A recent statistic survey by the Department of Internal Affairs states that Human-Alien relationships have transitioned quickly since First Contact, making up an estimated 21% of all non-married relations. This is greater at 34% for all youth relationships between 18-30 of Terran age._

 _Maybe you have already noticed while working with humans in the main cities or spaceports. Rest assured, I most certainly have noticed, almost from the beginning since we made land fall on our new world, but especially now as February begins. As I'm typing this, several flowers and gifts of Valentine's theme rest on my desk from human suitors of both genders. I only need to look around to see most of my Quarian colleagues have them as well. The humans truly work quickly. To be wanted by so many is quite romantic._

 _Aside from the more detailed features, we Quarians bear a close resemblance to the humans. Our face is very human like; our bodies share mostly identical features. I mean, Keelah! We both have hair! When they first saw us, I can bet they found the shapes of our hips attractive. And when we finally removed our helmets for the first time in centuries, it was that old human saying, 'All bets were off'. They will do anything to get in your suit._

 _Don't be too welcoming though. I'm almost thankful there isn't a human working on the editorial floor of our office, if what I researched is true. The stereotype that the Asari are promiscuous in mating is just that, they mate with other aliens for the survival of their race (You do not want to encounter an Ardat-Yakshi!). On the other hand, humans have been crossing the galaxy and mating, or attempting to if the same DIA report indicates, with every other race on the grounds that the galaxy exists as their personal playground. And please don't lead them on. If human history isn't clear enough, they'll do anything to mate. Half of their wars boil down to that reason, especially that one with the woman whose face could launch a thousand ships._

 _Still, humans love a love story. Their own vids show that, and they're looking out into the galaxy for more. Qurian, human, or even Turian, I recommend you go out and see_ Fleet and Flotilla, w _hich is now being released across Federation space today for the Valentine's Day weekend (A review by Gol'Ocar in the_ _ **Entertainment**_ _section for the film). If there's anything clear about humans, where there is love (and explosions), there is a story they shall want to hear._

 _Which is why I want to give a special mention to what was once, and maybe again, our race's most famed couple, Miri'Ghirn and Zaren'Vali! Truly their story of two unlikely people who fell in love would be one that would be a significant inspiration to us all. The humans have taken special interest of this, given their significantly high position in the Terran government, and Checkmate! Studios on Earth have begun production of a 'television' drama-documentary of the famed couple! The show will reenact the adventures of the couple, from the moment they met to the day they were reunited to the days of their Pilgrimage across the galaxy, to the traumatic events of Triginta Petra. CEO of Quantum Core Industry, and owner of Checkmate! Studio, Jeremy Bishop, has announced that the show will be 'significantly accurate' (as mandated in the Terran Constitution for propaganda type media) and that 'current research and personal account of their adventures could potentially rewrite Quarian history'. Now that sounds exciting!_

 _Set to air by late September, the show shall truly be an enlightening experience for all Terrans to watch! And to Miri and Zaren, I wish you all the best!_

* * *

 **Citadel News Network: News headlines of the Terran Month of February and March.**

 **February 2, 2168  
** _Earth based 'Goppy' the Gopher predicts early Terran Spring.  
Expected cold front across Northern Earth for next two months declared as an 'Outlandish Lie' made up by 'Global Cooling' believers._

 **February 8, 2168** _ **  
**_ _People outraged over Terran FCC not issuing fine over Terran Superbowl CXCII Halftime Wardrobe Malfunction.  
FCC admits all its agents were watching the 'Puppy Bowl' instead._

 **February 14, 2168** _ **  
**_ _Recently retired Admiral Zaal'Koris leads thousands of Qurians on 'Valentine's Protest March' on the UE building and Congress,  
protesting against the invasive measures of the Species Preservation Act._

 **February 17, 2168**  
 _Terran Military begins new recruitment campaign to recruit former slaves living in Federation.  
International Tensions increase as it targets liberated Asari, Salarians, and Turians to join Terran Military._

 **February 25, 2168** _ **  
**_ _Terran Congressional Hearing concludes the Terran Navy has illegally been denying OSHA agents inspection of Fleet.  
Secretary of Navy maintains denial of such actions in spite of recently low safety records._

 **February 29, 2168** _  
Terran Government agrees to high interest rates in order to transfer majority of federal debt held by Terran financial groups to Volus and Asari financial groups instead.  
Council markets react favorably as Terran markets react with mixed results._

 **March 1, 2167** _  
Councilor Nerval announces plan for Union to add two new dreadnoughts in wake of Hierarchy's new ship building.  
Asari decline to replace lost ships, or add new ships despite Treaty of Farixen now allowing it._

 **March 7, 2168**  
 _General Williams, the famed Desert Rat of the Great Revival, placed in charge of managing construction of permanent defenses along Council-Federation border.  
Will include staging areas for 'Counter-Offensive' operations.  
Primarch Cassiud calls entire plan 'Provocative' and 'Unnecessary'._

 **March 15, 2168  
** _President Bowman announces that the Terran Expeditionary Force on Illium will stay planet side for the immediate future; Claims border is not yet secure.  
Asari finally issue demand for return of planet._

 **March 18, 2168** _  
Admiral Fedorian announces 35% completion in outfitting Turian Navy with Hyperspace Communication System.  
Announces plan to outfit experimental Hyperspace Radar on scout ships and begins construction of its own 'Aircraft Carrier'._

 **March 19, 2168** _  
Terran Navy begins massive retrofitting of the First Fleet. Retrofits are believed to give Terran ships greater armor strength, maneuverability, and experimental mass accelerator guns with comparable effective range to Turian weapons.  
Admiral Woods plans new war exercises to test fleet._

 **March 22, 2168** _ **  
**_ _Asari Board of Galactic Rights calls out Federation Government for suppressing freedom of speech rights for Humans against Alien Integration.  
Secretary of State Kennedy comments that anti-alien 'Traitors' have no such right._

 **March 25, 2168** _ **  
**_ _Turian Colonial Primarchs and Terran State Governors tour Federation and Hierarchy, respectively,  
as part of exchange initiative to better relationships between the two major powers._

* * *

 **Terran FIA 'Song Bird' Foreign Monitoring Surveillance Program – Personal Letter Archive –** Primarch Desolas Arterius of the Mactare System and Cluster; Citadel Council Special Tactics and Reconnaissance Agent Saren Arterius **– Subject: Tour of Federation – Date Stamp: April 3, 2168**

Saren,

I trust you are doing well. I hope your return to the active field has been going well for you, and that your new arm has not been giving you trouble. It is unfortunate that the Council was not willing to pay for a new vat grown arm. I even heard that it was only the Terran Councilor Anita Goyle, of all people, who wanted them to provide the health care cost to get a vat grown arm. You would think they would give you a new arm since they were the ones who shot it off, but I guess the gesture is better than nothing.

I must voice my opinion, as both Primarch and your kin. I just don't understand why you bothered joining the Spectres. You should have stayed in the Army. You know what they say, ' _Rejects become Spectres, Elites become Ghosts'_. It is unfortunate, our best go to them, but our own forces lose the cream of a generation. And we are left with a group with a mentality that has only weakened us. You, yourself, would be a general, one with the skills and thinking to win the fight, unlike what we have now. As for my commission, the perks of the Primarch are all so clear. But unlike Cassiud, I am not the kind of man who uses the position to divulge themselves in wine and frivolous manners.

I must admit my tour here of the Federation has been rather informative. Enjoyable is an overstatement, but they have a rather impressive collection of literature and culture. Unlike others, I find it important to study what could be a threat to us. My colleagues wanted to see their shipyards and bases, but I chose the path that would yield the most information, if examined correctly.

The humans make themselves out to be a rather complex race, as everyone sees them. They try to be as cultured as the Asari, they dedicate time and resources into scientific endeavors that rival the Salarians, and though they wave their inflated prowess of military might, they have records of their great empires, of the understanding of conflict and war from their greatest minds. Though it pales to the countess millennia we have, I find it important to learn on how this race has achieved what they have.

Take this ancient reading by their philosopher, one 'Sun Tzu' and his composition of the 'Art of War'. Its readings are based on the basic understanding any commander with common sense would use; equal is it in philosophy in the set up, deployment, and objective in fighting, as it is tactical and strategic. But yet we have become ignorant of ideas we practiced long before they even wrote these words. We have taken for granted our position, our ways, and our means.

There is also this human general by the name of Clausewitz and his own work, 'On War'. Though I doubt this man fought in any real combat, he has come to understand the purpose of war. While our conscripts are idealistically, if not idiotically, eager to rush into a fight, this man and I understand that war is but a means by which politics of the state express their will and achieve their end. We have become accustomed to defaulting to it, when our allies view it as an end when all else fails. War is a means; it is to be used when needed, passed over when not. But one must be ready when that need arises.

Enough of the military, one piece I found most interesting was by their great 'Founder', Thomas Anderson; a man they revered in politics as we have so _hero worshipped_ Junius in the military. Though as far as the humans are concerned, they think that's basically all there is to our race. In this book, 'Nation, State, People', he rambles on the relationship between an idea, an organization, and the masses. But from my studies, I noticed something; a difference between our grand Hierarchy, and the human's beloved 'Federation'.

The humans, though strong to their conviction of 'patriotism', hold little love for their government. In fact, the state to them is nothing but a simple necessity to preserve the nation. But the nation, this idea they have made. They draw so many to their cause. Slaves, dissidents, and two outcast races have flocked to the humans. They have named themselves their title of their nationalism. A broad idea they morph and change to support what they want, while they claim its meaning never changes. With pride and arrogance, they rub their self-declared greatness at us.

I don't buy in to the human idea of 'Terran Nationalism'. But it makes me wonder. Oh yes, it does. From birth, we are told, we are trained; we live it, we breathe it, we die for it. _For the_ _Cause_ , we lay down our lives. 'Like the good Turian' everyone in the galaxy thinks we stupidly are. Tell me, brother. What is that cause? We fought for millennia to bring order and control to our world and galaxy. We fought to spread the Hierarchy, a dozen races under our nation's control, our government, our Hierarchy. The Hierarchy is the nation; it is the state.

We obey those who subvert our structure of advancement to gain positions of power, while we demand those with potential to take pride in what lowly citizenship level they achieve. They stagnate while those undeserving abuse their way to power. I've seen the Terrans. Each man, they earn or justify their position. They preach equality while promoting each man, woman, and child to be the best they can be: Better than anyone else.

The rise of this 'Terran Nation', while Humanity hides behind their claim of diversity. They will be the death of us. Not just the Turians, the Asari, or the Salarians, but all of us. But this enemy I must respect. For Humanity is not unworthy of it, what they created, what they discovered in their thinking has merit in this era. While we wither away, they deemed themselves worthy to succeed. It is that, they have no right! But they have the means.

We shall be ready when they make the fatal mistake of opposing us in full. What makes them so 'great' will do so truly for us. And with that, it shall be their downfall!

* * *

 **Section 14 Surveillance Monitoring: Dialog Transcript –** Target: Agent X, Agent Y, Agent Z **– Subject: Decrypted Suspicious Activity –** Date: April 22, 2168

X: I cannot stand it anymore. Waiting and waiting!

Y: Please be patient, young man. There is no need to be in a rush.

Z: No need? This man may be some ignorant xenophobic ass, but he is right! I stand here, waiting as the government and Bowman shove propaganda bullshit down our throats!

X: Propaganda sounds right! And you seem to have been taken captive by it! Humanity made the Federation strong! Now we take on the weakness of the galaxy's trash!

Z: Shut your mouth, you little sword wielding supremacist reb! If there were not such serious and pressing manners, I would have you arrested as the traitor you are!

X: You are the traitor! A traitor to our race!

Y: Gentlemen, please, we have all been pressed. We have a common goal.

Z: I'm trying to save the nation! Bowman claims we have moved on beyond the ashes of Earth. Yet he has stretched our nation to its limit. His administration uses 'patriotism' to scare even our Founders into supporting his use of power! Human and alien alike live under tyranny! And I fight for them all!

Y: Gentlemen, please settle down. Today is special. Which is why we are here, commemorating this day like any proud Terran.

X: Like proud Terrans? What of the billions of human lives we lost in the Revival! Do we just say empty word of their 'sacrifice', and wipe our hands clean?

Z: No! And we should not forget what the Federation has done! They were the ones to spilled blood. A government of the people, now it's of the few who think they know better than the rest of us! We spilled our blood on the home world! They sat on their gilded chairs, just waiting to end their game with orbital bombardment!

Y: I would not argue. We have most certainly lost our way. The decay of the vision laid down by Anderson. The loss of what it means to be human, the birther of the Federation. Or Terran, the child of the Nation. I assure you, gentlemen. We face an even greater risk, when we must be so fearful as to have to look behind and check on our own shadow!

X: Ah, yes. The great Section. Derived by the document that united mankind in order to protect it!

Z: Anderson created it to protect us all. Our nation is based on civility and just minds. This was a necessary evil. But necessary no longer! What Williams has done is the kind of abuse we feared from such a power!

Y: And my friends. The time has come that we fix this. Let us remember that Bletchley before him tried such madness to unite Humanity. Billions died and our home world was reduced to a shattered image of itself. And now Williams and his group work to influence the future of the nation. This is why we are here. We must be the one to bring…'checks and balances' to this problem.

X: So what do you expect us to do?

Z: How do we fight our own shadow?

Y: Like what a great man before me said, 'Against all threat beyond our shores, and from those within who dare go beyond what they know'. We must be guardians. Whether we stand near home on the Chiron relay, or at the edges of the divine heavens, we shall do what the great spirit of this day has become. We must _uplift_ ourselves and those who see the truth.

X: We shall make Humanity strong!

Z: We shall bring freedom to the people!

Y: We shall fear no enemy. We must be guardians. Whether at the far reaches of the black void, or lurking in our own shadow. The entire galaxy will one day step forward and face us. There they shall face us, or join us. Most certainly, from ashes and fire, and the pits of Hades. We shall rise!

* * *

 **New Haestrom Post –** May 1, 2168 **–** **New Rayya City, New Haestrom,** _ **State**_ **of Kepler Verge**

 **Front Page:**  
 _State of Kepler Verge enters Federation;  
Retired Admiral Zaal'Koris runs for Federation Congress_

 _Today marks a new dawn for the citizen of the great Kepler Verge. Yesterday, on April 30_ _th_ _, Congress voted in a nearly unanimous vote of 300-14 to admit the territory of Kepler Verge into the Federation as the 18_ _th_ _state in the nation. With the establishment of the colony world of New Haestrom with over fifteen million people in the star system Roma, and the neighboring colony world of Ontarom with two million people in the Newton system; the new state of Kepler Verge marks the first state admitted since First Contact, and the first in eight years. With a mostly Quarian population, the state will give true representation for the reemerging race._

 _The timing of this can be considered very well for the Quarian people. Since the enactment of numerous measurements of the Species Preservation Act back in December, protests have occurred across the nation against the strict measures being applied to the Quarians._

 _Due to the combination of the Quarians weak immunity, the low population numbers of only seventeen million, and the loss and occupation of the Quarian home world of Rannoch; nearly half of the articles of the Species Preservation Act have been put into effect. These have resulted due to the new laws that have been focused on 'preserving and repopulating the Quarian race'._

 _This has sparked huge backlash from Quarians and human-lead sentient rights advocates, because the act forces Quarians to obey laws otherwise considered by these groups as 'unconstitutional' in nature. The two most prominent of these is the Mandatory Immunization Act, which forces Quarians above the age of five to get nano-robotic injections to boost immunity to Galactic health standards, and the United Family Act, legally requiring all able body Quarian couples to have a minimum to five children per couple. The last one marks a significant cultural shift, since back on the Migrant Fleet, a strict one child policy was in effect._

 _In response to these new laws, retired Admiral Zaal'Koris has announced his campaign for the one congressional seat for the state of Kepler Verge. Currently running unopposed, Koris is considered a 'man of the people' by the Quarian race, serving as a major civil leader, before becoming the Admiral of the Main Civilian Fleet of the Migrant Fleet. In his announcement yesterday, just hours after the passing by Congress, he promised to be a loud voice for the Quarian people in Congress, and to campaign as well to have the Federation Court strike down the Species Preservation Act. If elected in the September, he would be the first non-human to be in a Federal elected position._

* * *

 **Terran FCC 'Guardian Angel' Monitoring Surveillance Program: Personal Communication Archive** – Fourth Fleet Vice Admiral Han Gerrel; Head Researcher of Synthetic Insight Rael Zorah; Synthetic Insight Co-Head Researcher Daro Xen – **Subject: Looking to the Future** –Date Stamp: May 21, 2168. Length – Ten minutes.

 **HG** : Rael!

 _RZ_ :Han! It's been a while! How's the patrol along the Terminus going?

 **HG** : Good. After what Roland did to the Hegemony, those savages wouldn't dare cross the border. Though, until we go on the offensive, the waiting is unbearable.

 _RZ_ :As Admiral Vali said, 'We are closer than ever before to taking back Rannoch.'

 **HG** : And I intend to take it back. For us all, and the future... Speaking of which. How is your girl?

 _RZ_ :She is doing fine. Just a year here and she's considered years above her grade level. Her human teachers are utterly amazed.

 **HG** : She's a bright girl. I heard about what happen back on Worker's Day. The humans should be thankful our finest are theirs.

 _RZ_ :Yes. And she won't be alone, from this family anyway.

 **HG** : Wait, you don't mean?

 _RZ_ :Yulia's pregnant!

 **HG** : Keelah! Congratulations Rael. A second child!

 _RZ_ :A miracle. She's going to be an older sister.

 **HG** : Yes. My, my, things have really changed... I trust your new job is treating you well?

 _RZ_ : Of course, Han. Keelah, the human AIs are still something to behold. I guess Zaal was right about them. It's amazing how the humans were able to create such complex programming.

 **HG** : I still reserve judgment. These humans display such recklessness in everything they do. Their tactics are unorthodox, their officers are unruly, they display callus when dealing with the most delicate of situations!

 _RZ_ : Come now, Han. This is coming from the man who attacked a Batarian cruiser, who was declared 'most wanted' by Nos Astro police, and someone who got an entire sect of the Eclipse mercenaries to declare a vendetta against–

 **HG** : Yes, yes! I don't need to hear it from the man who...

 _RZ_ : Who?

 **HG** : Who saved me from all of those… shenanigans from my childhood.

 _RZ_ : Given that you dragged me, Zaal and Shala along with you, none of us would call it that. But thanks anyway. Those medals Admiral Xen gave me for saving you were very nice.

 **HG** : That is beside the point! Even Zaal retired from his position. I can't blame the man. These humans are unpredictable! So irrationally passionate despite their position!

 _RZ_ : Ah! I see. This is about what happen between you and Hackett!

 **HG** : Do not mention his name! This has nothing to do with him–

DX: I would disagree.

 **HG** : What on–

 _RZ_ : Daro! How the hell did you access this _encrypted_ channel?!

DX: I figured out the decryption algorithm the FCC uses to do the same. Now then, Han, that problem you have…

 **HG** : It is Admiral Gerral to you!

DX: _Vice_ Admiral Gerral…

 _RZ_ : Get off this channel, now!

DX: You can't boss me around; I'm your colleague!

 **HG** : You're barely twenty! Shouldn't you be in one of those human universities?

DX: I'm such a genius that they couldn't deny my brilliance! Their elite engineering school, 'MIT', was so intimidated that they gave me a Masters just to get rid of me after one semester. Ha, another semester with those rock smashing pyjacks and I would have to complain to Father.

 **HG** : Is this true?

 _RZ_ : Unfortunately. She was an intern, until her stupid pyjack sex puppet got her promoted instead.

DX: He is my boyfriend! Though he is one of the few useful pyjacks I have met… In so many ways. Oh Alex… the one good thing about these Terrans…

 **HG** : Almost there, Rael?

 _RZ_ : Commencing override!

DX: What! What are yo–?

 _RZ_ : And done! She's not the only genius here.

 **HG** : You showed that spoiled bosh'tet. Feel bad for Admiral Xen.

 _RZ_ : But back to where we were. Han, you aren't going to get anywhere if you don't actually–

 **HG** : No. I… I can't. But I care for her too much. I won't let that bearded pyjack try to make a move on her!

 _RZ_ : If you must…

 **HG** : I must! I held my ground against blowhards like Vali. I will against this human… I should get going. We have a staff meeting in an hour.

 _RZ_ : Of course, of course. I wouldn't delay you anymore, Admiral.

 **HG** : You know, you could have been an admiral like us, especially with a repertoire like yours.

 _RZ_ : I could, I could. But it wouldn't have been for the best.

 **HG** : For the Fleet?

 _RZ_ : For Tali.

 **HG** : Huh? I would image you joining for the same reason.

 _RZ_ : Well, you can thank that 'blowhard' Admiral Vali. He convinced me otherwise. And it's one decision I'm glad I made.

 **HG** : Well. Here we are now, waiting to see what the future holds.

 _RZ_ : One thing is sure, it'll be a home; one for us all.

 **HG** : Agreed.

* * *

 **National Broadcasting Channel: Headlines of the Month of May and June**

 **May 2, 2168** _  
_Rowdy Worker's Day protesters on Illium burn down part of rebuilt Athena Skyscraper;  
Calls Asari Republics, 'Capitalist Dogs'.  
Government issues reminders to protesters that the Federation is also a capitalist nation.

 **May 9, 2168  
** DIA reports that 91% of all Quarians living in Federation have received Nano-robotic Immunity Supplements.  
DIA issues reminder that immunization is mandatory.

 **May 11, 2168  
** President Bowman refuses to reenact the 'Loyalist Act' as Unification Days approaches;  
states doing so will be a step back to Post-Revival Federation.  
Congress attempts to pass bill anyway.

 **May 16, 2168**  
FIA releases reports that the Turian Navy has delayed construction of Aircraft Carrier due to logistic problems.  
Hierarchy denies claim, states _Project: Volant_ is ahead of schedule.

 **May 20, 2168**  
Salarians withdraw a thousand ships and a battalion's worth of soldiers from Council control.  
Turian and Terran governments compete to fill the gap as Councilor Nerval urges Dalatrass to reconsider.

 **May 26, 2168**  
New Secretary of State announces that _Operation: Proclamation,_ the march on Terminus Systems, will occur 'Any day now'.  
Political analysts think Government chickening out of invading lawless areas of galaxy.

 **June 1, 2168**  
Security is at an all time high across the country as celebrations for Unification Day commence.  
CBI says no credible threat from Supremacist Rebels, but advises citizens to be vigilant.

 **June 3, 2168**  
Guild of Seamstresses reports record earnings, successfully competing against the Citadel's Sapphire Alliance.  
Announces plan to train employees on how to actually fix clothing due to confusion with name.

 **June 12, 2168**  
Eden Prime Constant Sprouts make it to NBA Finals for the first time ever, beating New Toronto Raptors in game six 112-106!  
Game one is against last year's champions, the Tehran Khans, on June 15.

 **June 17, 2168**  
DIA Secretary Castro announces new repopulation plan,  
confident in bringing Quarian and Drell Terran populations to one billion by the end of the next decade.  
Quarian and Drells worried about implications.

 **June 21, 2168  
** Turian Navy announces completion of Hyperspace Communications Upgrade for entire Fleet.  
Terran Navy orders all communications to be triple encoded and on rotating frequencies.

 **June 30, 2168  
** Ambassador Wyatt temporarily recalled from Turchanka after single handedly killing entire Fargas Clan during attack on embassy.  
Commented, "I'll miss this planet. It's like home, except a bit colder."

* * *

 **NBC: National Special Broadcast –** June 15, 2168 **– Arcturus Station, Arcturus, United Sol**

 **We now bring you to our reporter, Nikola Greckos, on board the FSS** _ **Heart of Detroit.**_ **Nikola?**

 _Hello Alison. I'm currently inside an observation lounge where, as you can see, we're presently in orbit over the new Arcturus Station in the Arcturus system._

 **Can you explain to the audience the significance of this station?**

 _What you're seeing right now is the newly completed space bound capital of the United Terran Federation. Its location marks it as the new heart of the Terran Nation. Here in the Arcturus system, there are dozens of relays, each leading to different clusters all over the Federation and the galaxy. This is also the only place in the galaxy where there is a relay to Sol and Earth._

 **So this location is quite strategic?**

 _Absolutely! As the Federation expands to nearly half of the galaxy, the government deemed it necessary to reposition the capital to a major crossroads like here. With the recently discovered direct relay to the Citadel itself, Arcturus is the new gateway into either Council or Federal space._

 **What's your description of the station from there?**

 _Truly it is a testament of our people's engineering and science, and you can see it for yourself right here on the station. Official records released state that the station is a large Stanford torus-type station, at fifteen kilometers long. The station is to permanently house nearly 150,000 people, with enough room to temporarily house nearly three million in an emergency._

 _The station is to be self-efficient, with biofarms derived from the designs of the Quarian Liveships and Thorium reactors for a millennia's worth of power. Along with the large cone-ring design, four large rectangular structures are located underneath the main hull. As you can see, each is located tangentially on each side of the station, one pair cross hatching the other. These are the main docking bays of the station and extend 30 kilometers long. At full capacity, the station can safely house a flotilla's worth of ships, within its titanium-gold walls._

 **The design is remarkable. Early designs of the station released by contractors state that the station was supposed to be smaller than it is now. Any comment?**

 _I'm glad you brought that up, because an engineer here told me that the original design was actually half of its current size. But that was a year and a half ago. After First Contact, it was rumored the government doubled the size, given the size of the Citadel, although it's not as big as the Citadel, a wonder of the Protheans. To have our own wonder built in under a year's time, and officially opened for the First Anniversary of the entrance of the Quarians and Batarians into the Federation, is nothing short of astounding. This new capital has captured the attention of much of the galaxy, with several Council VIPs such as Salarian Councilor Nerval and the Asari Matriarch Benezia, on the list for opening day._

 **Being located in a strategic location, can we safely presume it's well guarded?**

 _Absolutely, Alison. The station itself features an improved version of the same weapons used by star bases. These phaser cannons fire powerful beams that can take out any ship close to it or fill the void around it with plasma flak. The station, along with its 'guards' of four orbital star bases flanking it on four sides, means it can withstand siege against any enemy. A fact well prided by the military._

 _As for its fleet detachment, the Navy has not released any information, but military analysts believe that several thousand ships from the Sol Fleet will now be stationed here; in the future, the 8_ _th_ _Fleet will be positioned here to take the same role as the 5_ _th_ _Fleet had a year earlier…_

 _Alison, I'm now being told that shuttles are being directed towards the station. I'll end my coverage here for now. I'll get back to you once I'm aboard._

 **Thank you, Nikola.**

 **In other news, President Bowman and Primarch Cassiud have agreed to a sit down at the Citadel with their respective Councilors in order to improve the diplomatic relationship between the Federation and the Hierarchy. This announcement coming after both powers announced the continued rampant military buildup in the wake of the Asari and Salarians continued withdrawal of forces from the Council Fleet.**

* * *

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

The poll is closed!  
Thank You Everyone who voted! I truely apperciate your input!  
My story idea, Mass Effect: The Synthetic Storm  
Shall be the next main story idea I shall work on!

I hope to start publishing as this one one comes to a close.  
And I have some smaller story ideas I might publish for peace of mind.  
But don't worry, the gambit only continues!  
(And the Terran Resistance shall live on!)

Thank you all for reading,  
Be sure to keep on following,  
There's more coming up!

And always feel free to review.  
If you got feedback, comments, or concerns,  
let me know.  
I'm always looking for feedback and always aim to improve!

If you have any questions,  
Go ahead and review or PM me.  
I'd be glad to answer them!

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\


	28. 27: The Calm

**Act Three: Nation**

 **Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Calm...**

* * *

 _The Turians and the humans. After all these years, I can't but help and see how vastly different these two races are. Old and young. Traditionalists and Progressivists. Collectivists and Individualists. They are very different. Polar opposites as some say. Like two sides of the coin._

 _But the same coin, all the more. They are empires. They are republics. They fight and wage war. They guard what they care about in the name of peace. They speak the same ancient tongue. The galaxy still sees the Turians as they always have: a militaristic, prideful and honor-bound race that has cemented their place millennia ago. The galaxy still sees the humans in the same light as when they first appeared: a hardheaded, egotistical, freedom-loving race that's own goal is to uproot everything around and implant itself in its place. They have changed so much in these past ten years. But then and now, they are so alike._

 _I saw that early on during that Great Interbellum. I watched as both sides raced to ready themselves for war. Fedorian and Arterius saw the real weakness they suffered: age and experience, but lack of adaptability. And though the Terrans looked invincible, Bowman and the others knew better. Quick with their minds and hands, but still young and naïve to the ways of the galaxy. Hubris eroding the solid foundation they had built._

 _I thought still, in the end, we would have peace. But they only saw the differences in each other. And they had too much in common, especially in their weaknesses. Like two brothers in a feud. When both are indecisive, both shall suffer from the other, and from within._

 **United Terran Federation Vice-President Ja'hal Derik – Transcript of interview about Turian-Human relationships from CNN: 100 Minutes.** 2177

* * *

 **Part 1:**

 **Admiral Fedorian and Primarch Cassiud - Palaven  
A year since the Terran's entrance onto Council, Twelve Months into the Interbellum  
** **July 19, 2168 06:00:00 UTC**

Since First Contact, the Terrans' bold push had sparked a dramatic shift in the political, social, and economical foundation of the galaxy. The true goal for the Terrans was clear. They were the disruption to the old order and rules of the galaxy. If the galaxy, as a whole, was to be ready, they all must be dynamic, in a state of constant change as they competed with one another while maintaining a definitive unity. If needed, the leaders of the Terrans were willing to play into the role of the aggressors; spurring the old powers into action and a state of readiness to fight a truly greater enemy. All the while, the best the Terrans had would use the galactic diplomatic structure that was the Council to keep the peace, and ensure they were unified for when the Reapers came.

Instead, the first year of Humanity's arrival in the galaxy was met with mixed responses. They had failed to really grasp, in the earlier stages of First Contact, the complexity and situation of the three main races that rule the galaxy, and their impact on them. Those Terrans out of the loop would declare it as a magnificent turn for the Terran nation. The Salarians were divided, the Asari were subdued, and though the Turians were scrambling to meet the Terrans head on, they were alone against what the average person saw was the new galactic juggernaut. Those like Bowman and Williams, though, saw it for what it really was: a gamble going wrong, and a disaster in the making.

For the Salarians, Humanity was a divisive force for them. Caught off guard by the very nature of First Contact, their initial intelligence gathering failed to help set up their doctrine of preemptive readiness. The sudden need for galactic scale improvising fell to its leadership, a task only a very few could handle. Never an openly militarized power, its military and special forces had little clout in influencing Salarian politics. Even the famed STG was a tool for political uses by whoever held power rather than a dedicated foreign intelligence agency that benefited the state as a whole. At first, the Salarians met the challenge the Terrans gave with their own work; agents studied how the driving force of the Terrans, Humanity, worked. All the while, their finest scientists worked to reverse engineer their technology and scientific achievements. The Dalatrass' response was mute until their endeavors met failure. Initial minor setbacks, but with large public repercussions, caused their aged political system to step away from attempting to match the Terrans, a sting to the Salarian military. Combined with Councilor Nerval's public opposition to the Salarian leadership, the Terran's initial advantage has caused the underlying fissure between the military and political leaderships to fracture at a more apparent level.

The Asari's response was a closely interlocked series of cultural submission and a sting of political defeats to Councilor Goyle and her Diplomatic Corps. Upon entering the wider galaxy, there was the clash of marble and crystal spiral towers, toga dresses, and the individual ideals of the Asari, against the glass-skined, steel-boned skyscrapers, blue jeans, and collective unity and rule of the human-Terrans. With the seemingly unprecedented coup d'état in getting a seat on the Council itself, the Terrans got the head start in grabbing the focus of the Asari and the galaxy. Terran-human culture was new, and arguably unique to what had existed earlier. But the same couldn't have been said about the Asaris' influence. Beyond academic interest, there was little mutual interest in the Asari, other than physical interest. Humanity was more interested in flaunting its own culture, while appropriating Quarian and Batarian culture to its own.

With cultural influence came political influence and a clash between the galaxy's two great 'Democracies'. Being the only official position for the Republics on the galactic stage, Councilor Tevos was quick to reaffirm ties with many of the small nation-state races, hoping to block the Terrans from a potential source of political clout to back its new seat. But Councilor Goyle and the newly formed Diplomatic Corps from the State Department were just as quick to counter. The Terrans had cemented, by sheer presence alone, clout among some races. But the rest, the Corps was more than willing to borrow from Humanity's old playbook to secure. While the Asari formed its hegemony by cultural presence, the Terrans secured its through a combination of diplomatic deals, economic aid, and seemingly unprecedented military force in what was criticized by even their own analysts as a 'reenactment of the Cold War'. This was met with criticism all around, as the humans 'protected Terran democracy' by establishing 'Banana Republics' and dictatorships, and employing 'Gunboat Diplomacy' in a manner even the Turians themselves saw was an 'art'. But what the Asari took millennia to do, the Terran began matching in months, and in the years to come.

Only the Turians met the challenge the Terrans offered by preparing themselves. What the Terrans failed to see in time was how the Turians did so. Admiral Fedorian rallied his growing bloc, using the skills he learned from his mother to gain support across the empire as he used his position for the power it afforded him. He called for reform, and as the man who personally fought the Terrans himself, he made ground in enacting them. He called for modernization, a change in doctrine, and a social re-evaluation. But he was met with initial resistance from the Traditionalists bloc, which had Primarch Cassiud in their control; change was feared. While they were opposed to the Terrans' rise, they lacked both the decisive leadership and strategic capabilities to do anything.

This led to Colonial Primarch Desolas Arterius and his Radicalist bloc. Though equally anti-Terran, Fedorian had the good fortune that Desolas was both level minded for the time being, and willing to work with him. Fedorian knew what changes were needed to ready the Hierarchy, and Desolas could give him the clout and resources to do so, while bypassing the Traditionalists bloc. But their name said it all; any means was deemed acceptable if it meant getting a new footing against the Terrans. What Fedorian took well into consideration however was that while he had strengthened the military, he knew it was still not much compared to the Terran juggernaut. Both the Traditionalists and the Radicalists were eager for war, the Reformists themselves divided between stopping the others and joining altogether.

Fedorian made his reforms clear, they must reach out for peace; their military was for defense. He quickly re-ascended the meritocracy and, what the Terrans failed to see in full slowly divided the Hierarchy. With Desolas, both had become symbols the Turians looked to over the year as the Terrans advanced their position across the galaxy. Any breakout of war would surely end with either him or Desolas leading the nation against the Terrans.

At home, the worry was from within, but no one would admit it. Much of Humanity saw it as their duty to rebuild the Quarians, civilize the Batarians, and sway the millions of other alien citizens in its realm of the Terran way of life. But division, even a little, was always seemingly enough to break the Terrans' back. With their own division, the Terrans leading the great gambit would come to realize something they had neglected earlier. With one great gambit to stop a great enemy, there were others out there doing the same. A gambit to stop the Terrans. From outside, and within.

* * *

 _36 years ago…_

" _Fire another volley!"_

 _At the CIC of the_ Victorio's Resolute _, Fedorian stood at his position at rear of the CIC, overlooking his holographic projection console and the CIC as a whole. Smoke and some fires were scattered about as he shouted orders, the loud noise of exploding machines and alarms drowned him out. As he looked at his screens, the battle outside did not go well._

" _We lost the_ Bellicose _!" yelled Commander Parrus from his position. "They're attacking from our lower left flank!"_

 _Outside, Admiral Kavos and his mighty Batarian Armada was advancing across the system. The Turian force led by Fleet Admiral Junius was organizing a counteroffensive when Kavos ambushed his forces. With only three thousand ships versus nearly the entire Hegemony fleet, and comm buoys destroyed, Cassiud's reserve fleet was the last one holding the line from an even greater push into the Hierarchy._

 _Fedorian turned to his commanding officer, who was using Fedorian's ship as his flagship, "Admiral! We won't last for very long. We must–"_

" _No! We must advance and support the 15_ _th_ _fleet!" yelled the Admiral, slamming his closed talons against the railing, "We must aid Junius!"_

" _This is insane, Admiral Cassiud! Kavos has us outnumbered four to one. We are the last few dreadnoughts in the system! If we fall back now, Commodore Quentiues can cover our–"_

 _A Batarian slug burst through the barriers and slammed the ship, damaging the ship and sending a massive overload through the systems. Fedorian's console exploded, sending the man back and into the wall behind him. Cassiud turned and rushed to his aid._

" _Captain Fedorian!"_

 _He laid there, his uniform tattered and burned, and bleeding out with blue covering his face._

 _Stunned, he whispered out, "Admiral…" before coughing up more of his blood._

 _Cassiud propped him up against the wall, then rushed to assume control of the ship himself. Standing in overview of the CIC, the slowly delirious Fedorian watched as Cassiud tried to rally a counter attack to no avail. The fleet was overwhelmed, in no position to even save itself, let alone the 15_ _th_ _._

" _Ahead half speed! Engage target D-27! Gunnar, fire salvo!"_

 _Fedorian looked on. Cassiud was obsessed with making a breakthrough that could never happen. With a punctured lung and blood in his chest, he titled his head back, accepting his imminent fate. He wondered if his commanding officer was aware. But it was for sure, he didn't accept the fate of his friend. As explosions and a raging fire consumed the CIC, Fedorian watched as Cassiud yelled out his order, a man of conviction that was unfortunately trying a fool's errand._

" _Attack, attack, attack!"_

* * *

 _Present Day_

Admiral Fedorian continued down the hallway of the small station in orbit around the Turian moon of Nanea. He was surround by his staff of officers, each trying to get his attention and limited time to debrief him about the numerous issues they were in charge of monitoring. The man himself was trying his best to give it, but he was swamped.

Across the station, everyone else was moving about; cargo was being moved and delivered as new equipment was being readied for installation and new personnel were being transferred. As Fedorian finished up with his staff, he walked down a corridor bordering the outside, large viewports opening the view.

Outside were the newest ships being launched by the Turian fleet. Fedorian stared out, not really proud but more so glad at seeing some physical manifestation of his work. He remembered the stories, saw the vids of a time long ago, after the Unification Wars, when new ships representing a new Turian Hierarchy left the shipyards of Palaven and went out into the galaxy. Today, after thousands of years, he was now the man who revitalized the Hierarchy. The nation of the great empire that spanned millennia looked to him, and one other, for leadership.

As he continued to his next destination, he worried still. Since the Krogan Rebellions, the Primarchs themselves led all great movements. He was drawing power from Cassiud; he was drawing attention from the Primarchcy. In readying the Hierarchy, he feared he was creating a division. In spite of what many had come to see of the Hierarchy, the government and the military were two separate entities. Though often intertwined for so many years to the point the Head Primarchcy came from the military ranks rather than the political Senatoria, there was still a fine, if nearly invisible, line between civilian and military rule.

Fedorian took great pains in making sure that that one line wasn't crossed. The last time it had happen, the once temporary position that was the Head Primarchcy became an official one.

He arrived at the shuttle bay, its doors open as shuttles came in and out, a mass effect barrier holding the atmosphere in place. As he walked towards his private shuttle in order to survey the latest ship, there were three Turians waiting in front of it.

They turned around, the man in the middle greeting him with a mild tone.

"Admiral Fedorian."

Fedorian stood to attention and saluted the Head Primarch of the Hierarchy.

"Primarch Cassiud, sir!"

"How good to see you, Admiral," he said, calmly, as if attempting to stay interested. Cassiud had been hands off from military affairs since he became Primarch after the war. It partially had to do with what happened during the war, and partially that he had to focus on politics in order to follow in the steps of the last Primarch, a skilled general and politician many saw as superior to him. Against his personal wishes, he had been made to return as to deal with the Terran issue. He was flanked by General of the Army Radoria, a strong Traditionalist, and Admiral of the Frontier Fleets Parrus, a Radicalist and once Desolas' Naval counterpart. "I was reading this report on what R&D has been doing."

Fedorian responded, "Oh yes. I was informed by Victus we are making progress on the warp drive propulsion system."

"I also read here that there are other projects?"

"Oh yes. Well, Tantalus had several projects on the drawing board that he was hoping to work on. Several were initially in collaboration with the Asari."

Parrus turned to him, "The Asari? I haven't seen anything worthwhile come out of their academia in my lifetime!"

Fedorian clarified, "They were private ventures, commissioned by Victorio personally decades back with Tantalus. Some plans were made, but after the war with the Batarians, they were scuttled. But now he asked me for funding to reopen research and continue her goals."

"Have you read these reports, Fedorian?" Radoria said with disdain, grabbing the tablet Cassiud was reading from, much to his anger. "Mass attraction drives, relativistic ferro-magnetic cannons, non-Prothean mass relays? This is science fiction nonsense!"

"Better we make our own research than just _copy_ the Terrans!" remarked Parrus.

"I can say the same thing, Parrus! It says here you gave the Electronics Division approval to conduct research into AI! That's still against Council law!"

Parrus gave a smug laugh at him, "Look who's actually caring about Council law! The man who attacks first and asks questions later, thinking he's a damn Spectre! Those laws were only enforceable because we enforced them! We can do it, however. And the Terrans won't dare risk hypocrisy to stop us!"

"This is madness!"

Cassiud raised his hand to signal him, "Enough, General… Fedorian, how are we with Terran tech?" he asked, taking his tablet back from Radoria once more to read the report. "Like their FTL?"

"Hyperdrive is still in the research phase. Besides communications systems, I don't see us making any meaningful gains for the foreseeable future. Energy consumption is too great and our heat sinks would fry in an instant just trying to open a portal. It's still a problem with communications. As for warp drive, we have made modifications to the _Proficio_ and the _Finibus_. Their warp engine uses a new design based on a rotating fluctuation dynamic field…"

Admiral Parrus on the other side of Cassiud coughed, quickly speaking to Fedorian underneath it, "Spare the Primarch the details."

"Of course. Well, we can get Warp Factorial 3.3."

"How about you dial that down some more…" Cassiud said, overhearing Parrus, "For the General and Admiral here, I mean."

"Our new drives can get five light years a day."

"That is slow," he remarked. "An old Quarian vessel can still top that."

Fedorian clarified, "We are making progress. If we break what the Terrans call the 'Warp Five' barrier, we could match our current ships in speed and at a fraction of the fuel cost. It did take them half a century to do so. I hope to break it by the end of the decade."

"I see. Parrus?"

Parrus nodded to Cassiud and pulled out a tablet, handing it to Primarch Cassiud. Cassiud opened it and handed it to Fedorian.

"What is this?"

He groaned as he handed it to him, "This is from Primarch Desolas and his personal agents." Cassiud was disgruntled with Desolas taking so much action without direct approval from the Hierarchy. "They have secured information for Terran engine designs."

Fedorian gave it a quick glance, "This should speed things up a bit. R&D will be glad to get working on this."

"It will also be the only thing they'll be working on," said Cassiud, "I'm ordering you to divert resources into reverse engineering Terran technology only. Inform Victus and Tantalus that I'm cutting funding to these other projects."

"These projects are critical to getting a definitive edge over the Terrans!" argued Fedorian.

"Some of those projects will be outsourced to our client races across the empire. Professor Thanix will be working with the Volus on some of them. The remaining funding, I have authorized to be sent to Naval Command. Congratulations, I'm giving you approval for two dozen new, what did you call them… 'Cruiser Dreadnoughts'?"

"Battlecruisers."

"Like the Terrans?" asked Radoria.

"Well, no. They just call their dreadnoughts that. Ours fall in the technical term. We plan to exchange their armor in for greater speed and maneuverability. They will also incorporate a hybrid FTL system for inner system deployment."

"You want to build glass ships?! Primarch, you can't seriously be allowing this?"

Fedorian argued, "The Terrans engage combat in knife fighting range! And I saw their ships destroy a heavily armored dreadnought in one salvo. To invest in armor is fool hardy. Investing in fast, powerful ships, and more of them is a must."

"Agreed," said Cassiud, quickly ending Radoria's complaint. This was one of the few times he agreed with Fedorian. Though out of touch with direct military action for years, he still understood Naval deployment strategy. Whatever others may say, he did earn his rank of admiral before Primarch, "I can vouch for that. Something like that would have been useful in the last war. That madman Kavos favored close quarters."

"And he was an amateur compared to Roland or Valenzuela," added Fedorian.

Radoria grumbled, folding in. But he continued on another topic, "Fine. If you so will it. But about these Army reforms that this _Naval_ admiral is forcing on us?"

"General. I would be pressed to inform you that Primarch Desolas, your former superior, has given me full backing. General Partinax has thrown on his support as well."

"Stay in your own realm, Fedorian! I know what I'm doing in mine. Primarch, we must be off!"

Radoria took leave, urging Primarch Cassiud to follow. Disinterested, he quickly left with Radoria to their shuttle to return planet side. Parrus turned to Fedorian.

"The man is a blowhard! We know what must be done. Not some general that didn't even fight in the last war decades ago!"

Fedorian sighed, looking to his own shuttle, "It is fortunate we have General Partinax on our side. The Army stands ready, if not dragging its feet all the while."

"Yes, but to see Cassiud this way. That man was once a hero in his own right."

"He still is to some. But I do not blame him for his state… he wasn't supposed to be a politician. He's a soldier. But one withered by a profession that he was never ready for, and by age that steals what does makes us great."

Parrus scuffed at the idea. He knew of one man that would be capable, "If Junius was here, the Hierarchy would have been prepared, and wouldn't need men like us doing the job of an entire nation."

Fedorian turned to him, tapping a talon on his head to remind Parrus, "If Junius was _here_ …"

Parrus whispered to him, his tone still clear and aggressive, "We would have a nation of billions all eager to march on the Federation, and burn him and every other traitor who sided with the humans!"

They were of the few who knew now of Admiral Junius' fate. It was even more shocking to learn of his new allegiance over even the fact he was alive. It was much more so than Humanity's arrival; a pressing internal issue, but one that led back to the Terran problem in the end. But there was more than one view of the matter.

"Or we would have an nation completely demoralized and ripe for conquest by him and the fleet they gave him. It's why both sides hide that fact. It would guarantee death. If only we knew to who…"

An alert appeared on his omni-tool. It was a message being forwarded from his ship in orbit. He transferred the audio to his ear piece as he looked at the screen for the message. After a moment, his eyes went wide and he quickly rushed to get in his shuttle, signaling Parrus to follow.

"What in the spirits is going on, Fedorian?"

"One of Arterius' base is under attack! We have to get there and defend it!"

"What!" They boarded the shuttle, Fedorian directing the pilot to quickly hurry to his ship, the _Fortune of Metaurus_. "Who is attacking? That's on a remote world!"

"Doesn't matter. The damn Primarch is there!" He opened hail to the captain of his ship, "Ready a flotilla, now!"

* * *

 **Part 2:**

 **Colonel Harper and Primarch Arterius  
Secret Hierarchy Base  
July 19, 2168 07:00:00 UTC**

Harper sprinted down the corridor of the incomplete ship, a squad of Turian guards chasing right behind him. On his left, he could see the outside of the ship, a large underground facility on a remote Turian planet, through holes in the unfinished hull. If his mission was successful, there would be a lot more holes in it.

The man's mission was simple. Since Fedorian's military reforms officially began months earlier, much of the work to modernize the military was taken up by different regional colonies and client races within the Hierarchy. While most places were under monitor by Terran Military Intelligence and the Federal Intelligence Agency, the most valuable targets were reserved for 'Special Intervention Operation'. Using the old name for the Hegemony special forces, it was a code name that the 'non-existent' Section 14 was handling those targets. Low level agents wouldn't know the difference. High level ones knew better not to get involved, or well, too involved to begin with.

Jumping through incomplete bulkheads, over tool carts and steel garters, and sliding under a nearly sealed bulkhead hatch, he lost his pursuers. He checked back behind him, and looked at himself, making sure his holo-cloak was still operational. Disguised as a Turian, any captured image of him as himself could damage diplomatic relationships. But the Terrans had done well in denying most of its allegations. Set once again, he continued making his escape as the security force behind him began blowtorching their way through the bulkhead.

"Papa Bear! I need a sit-rep!" he said, as he looked back, another security team began chasing him through the ship as the first one broke through.

Thousands of kilometers away, in orbit over the remote Turian outpost in the Mactare Cluster, a small, modified shuttle waited in orbit, hiding behind a comet passing the planet, but far enough away the ice trail it left behind did not blast it. In it was Captain Hislop, code name "Mama Bear", and Brigadier Petrovsky, "Papa Bear", aiding Harper on his mission. As Hislop continued his maneuvering, Petrovsky replied,

"Papa Bear here. Goldilocks, we intercepted an encrypted message sent from the planet with hyperspace comms. Low frequency indicates it is Turian in origin. A reinforcement of one flotilla is en route. ETA five minutes."

Harper finally made it to the forward half of the ship and to an open side hatch. Looking out into the massive three-kilometer hangar, he was over five hundred meters from the ground. As he looked around to figure out how to get to the platform a few hundred meters below and across from him, he ducked as shots were fired at him. He turned back and returned fire, pining his pursuers behind a hallway corner.

"Papa Bear, the porridge is too hot. Repeat, the porridge is too hot!" As he fired, he looked back at the gap behind him.

Hislop responded, "Copy. En route for beam up. Mama Bear will be in position in five minutes."

"Roger. Goldilocks out!"

Harper grabbed a grenade and lobbed it down the corridor. The security team retreated quickly to avoid it as Harper used it to cover his escape. He grabbed onto the exposed metal frames left open by un-welded plates along the hull near the opening and began to free climb up the exterior of the ship. He quickly hurried to find his next path of escape as the entire base was on alert, several soldiers down on the docking platform below and snipers up in the adjacent walkways took aim at him.

As he swung from one frame edge to another, making his way up, he heard a sniper round. It was loud and gritty, unlike the clean and slip line rifles used by the Turians. The Turians also took notice of the different gunshot sound, looking up, before a soldier on the platform was suddenly pinned to a ground with a gaping hole in his chest, followed by the slower sound of the non-Turian round. As Harper turned to see where the sound had come from, he saw a long dangling chain from high above get shot from afar. Freed, it began to swing straight for him.

As the hangar full of Turians scrambled about, Harper took the opportunity presented to him. Timing it closely, he jumped off the hull of the Turian cruiser and flew through the air for a slight moment, gunfire from below passing him by as the chain came closer. As he quickly began to fall outright, he grabbed on to the chain. He then pivoted his body to swing over to the platform, the entire base in a scramble as Harper made his escape as an unknown sniper aided his path.

* * *

High above in a heavily armored administration booth, Primarch Desolas Arterius looked on out to the hangar. His visit was to his own personal project, which he hoped would bridge a major gap between the Turians and the human-Terrans. It seemed word of it had gotten out. There was chaos about as the guards of his personal base scrambled to stop the 'Turian' swinging on the chain, while snipers searched the hangar for the mysterious sniper who seemed to be aiding him. Desolas was calm, looking on in interest.

An aid rushed up to him as the other officers in the booth rushed about in a panic to defend the base.

"Primarch, sir! We must get you to safety!"

"No, not yet. I want to see this for myself." He pointed on the glass towards Harper, curious, "How interesting…"

"Sir, we believe this to be an attack by some rogue Turian agent. You are in danger!"

Desolas raised his hand in dismissal, "I am in no danger, yet. And that is no rogue Turian…"

* * *

Harper swung across to the other side and jumped, still a hundred meters from the platform. He dove towards the platform, gaining speed as the guards tried unsuccessfully to shoot him down. He activated his inertia dampeners and adjusted his position as he neared the ground. As soldiers approached his drop point, he slammed into the metal platform in a perfect 'superhero' three-point landing, the shockwave blowing away the soldiers around him.

He got up, only for his holo-cloak to fail and reveal his human form, dressed in mostly black armor with a gold and red outline, with his signature, and very obvious, blue beret soldered to the top of his helmet. As he tried to get it back on, a solider charged at him with an omni-blade, but was cut down by the sniper before coming too close to him. Harper looked up to where the round came from, but instead of spotting his mysterious guardian angel sniper, he saw the administration booth. Zooming in with his eye slots, he saw a single Turian dressed in a formal uniform, his hands behind his back and head ever so slightly tiled in curiosity, calmly staring him down from nearly a kilometer away.

With no time left, Harper broke eye contact from the powerful Turian and continued to his evac location, snipers from above shooting down at him as soldiers rushed to block him off and capture him. His firearms gone, he took to using his environment to free run, jumping up on supply crates and low hanging beams and running past groups of soldiers while high velocity rounds rained down. As they stayed scattered, Harper finally reached the end of the platform, an area surrounded by numerous large shipping crates.

He jumped up higher onto a low walkway and sped up, jumping up even higher to a metal beam. As he balanced ran across the bar, he looked down at his evac site. Below in a secluded area was a soldier, on guard for him. Harper jumped off and dove down, deploying a holo-blade from under his left wrist. Before the Turian could look back up, Harper kicked him to the ground and stabbed him with his blade with the full force of his fall, all while using the soldier to break his landing. He got back up and grabbed several smoke grenades, popping them off as the rest caught up with him, knowing they would be unwilling to head in with little vision.

Safe in the smoke, and receiving a notice on his HUD that time was running out, he opened the hail.

"Mama Bear, Papa Bear, are you home yet?"

"Got a lock on you, beaming you to bed!"

With the cover of smoke to aid his final escape, energy ribbons consumed the Section 14 agent and in a whiff of smoke, he was gone.

* * *

Harper rematerialized on the shuttle floor. Petrovsky rushed to help him up. Harper looked to Hislop in the pilot's seat.

"Ben, get us out of here!"

"Don't have to tell me twice. Fedorian himself just arrived!"

Petrovsky rushed back to his console and got on the QEC.

"Baby Bear, open the transwarp conduit. Repeat, open the transwarp conduit!"

The shuttle backed off, flying straight into the turbulent ice tail of the comet, masking its signature. As it approached the end of the tail, a small transwarp fold appeared, just large enough for the shuttle. In a moment, from deep in Turian space, they appeared tens of thousands of light years away in the depths of the Horsehead Nebula.

"Confirmed. Approaching Minuteman Station."

Harper walked up and quickly fell into the passenger seat behind them.

Petrovsky turned around, "Its unfortunate we couldn't stay to confirm that the target was destroyed."

"We? I thought Kennedy sent another agent to support me," said Harper as he removed his helmet and fluffed his beret, still clean despite the battle.

"I would have been informed."

"Well, damn," said Harper, pausing to think about who it could have been, before smiling, "I have a guardian angel then."

Ben turned back, "So who was it?"

"A friend. And I think we'll be getting our confirmation real soon…"

* * *

Fedorian quickly arrived in the underground hangar reinforcements following closely behind. Docking at an adjacent hangar, he rushed to check up on Primarch Arterius.

"Arterius, I received word of an attack."

"They have already left," he said, still looking out into the hangar below. "Oh, have you received that data pack I sent?"

"What? Yes, but that just happened here?" demanded Fedorian, confused at Desolas' lack of concern for the attack.

"We believe a Terran operative disguised as a Turian infiltrated the base," he said as he finally turned around and faced Fedorian. "Well, what did Cassiud say?"

"He's cut the funding for the rest of the projects, but diverted it towards continued warp and hyperdrive development, along with several dozen new battlecruisers."

Desolas nodded, subtly glad, "Oh good. We'll be needing that funding and those ships…"

In an instant, the one and a quarter kilometer ship in the hangar below exploded. Several key points of the hull were consumed in flames and the ship broke into pieces, unhooked from its docking hinges, and fell into the large open bay beneath it. Fedorian rushed to the viewport and watched in horror as the ship was destroyed, the hangar crew rushed across the catwalks and platforms adjacent to the ship, attempting to put the flames out as medics rushed between injured troops.

"Because we just lost this one."

"Spirits. Send word to my ship! We need additional support!" said Fedorian and then he turned to Desolas, "How could they have gotten in this deep?"

"A mystery, I admit." He walked over and joined him at the viewport, the bright light from the flames making them shield their eyes, "But a clear indicator of our own progress. The Terrans are scared. Today, we are close to bridging the gap. Tomorrow, we shall exceed them!"

"Not if they destroy our ships before they're complete!"

"A minor issue. But they can't stop us. It is one ship." Desolas knew more about what that one ship actually was, but he kept that even from Fedorian. "Soon we shall have fleets and armies to restore our rightful place!"

Fedorian sighed, "Yes. In time, we shall be ready. Our patience and our…" another explosion flared from the wreck, "continued understanding will enlighten us to a new state."

"If you say so…" Desolas looked up to the ceiling of the bunker, seeing a shadow move swiftly across the upper catwalk and out of sight. "But it makes me wonder. Is it us you speak of that must change to meet the Terrans… or is it them who must adapt to meet us?"

Fedorian walked over to the adjacent command room, not understanding what he had said, "Spirits, this a mess."

As Parrus arrived with more troops, Desolas whispered to himself, "You haven't seen it yet."

Parrus rushed over and saluted him, "Primarch! Are you okay?"

"Yes, yes, of course," he said, waving his concern off, "But we lost this ship…"

"No need to worry. We have designed a safeguard, and have more intelligence to continue construction."

Desolas turned back to the flaming wreck, "Good… have Fedorian put you in charge of the construction of his ship. And make the changes. We shall be the first to adapt..."

* * *

"Jacky, Jacky… you haven't change a bit," she thought out loud as she left the scene of Harper's handiwork, lugging her rifle on her back.

The Federal Intelligence Agency agent made her way to her own evac point, a private room above the bunker. She ducked behind the cover of a door corner as a squad of troops rushed to get to the main hangar. She continued and finally made it in.

"Crude, but efficient as ever. But a Section man? I should have guessed…"

In the clear, she grabbed a baton device from her suit compartment and began to activate it as she radioed in her own contact.

"Bay of Pigs. This is Eagle Claw. Ready our evac."

Another FIA agents yelled out, "What? You're still a half a click underground."

"Just be ready."

She twirled the baton a bit in amusement like she once did as a kid while it charged up. In a moment, it lit up and she activated it.

"But you're not the only one with **magic** at their fingertips."

She began to giggle a bit as bright orange energy ribbons began to appear and revolve around her, quickly consuming her in a bright light. Moments later, she was gone as well.

* * *

 **Part 3:**

 **Bishops - San Jose  
Ten Months into the Interbellum  
May 15, 2168 21:00:00 UTC**

 _Twenty Years Earlier…_

 _He slowly descended down the staircase, holding onto the railing that stood nearly twice his height as he went down one step at a time. The foyer was dark, except for the bright moon light coming in from the massive tinted window above the front door. As he took his last steps down the stairs, he could hear yelling across the mansion. When he reached the main floor, he began to walk over to the sound of argument._

 _Passing through the living room, he could now see a light coming from the kitchen up ahead. He could hear the voices._

" _I won't let you go! I can't, damn it."_

" _You can't stop me. My mind is made. I'm going back home, to Earth."_

" _Earth? This is your home! There is a war going on back in Sol."_

 _The boy walked closer, sliding his feet in his pajama onesies that was decorated with pictures of gears and wrenches, muffling his approach._

" _Damn it, Earth is our home. We have the privilege of knowing what's actually happening. We must do something. Earth is burning!"_

" _Then let it burn! Let the old world burn. We have Eden, Nova, an entire empire in the stars! We don't need Earth."_

" _How the hell can you say that? What happened to 'solid ground and firm Earth'?"_

" _A lie! It has always been a lie! How we met was even proof of it. We lost Earth to the ignorant, idiotic, savage, parasites, and cancer of Humanity. Earth must burn! But we, us, and every one else shall survive! Our quest for Terra shall be bolstered with a stronger Humanity! One no longer burdened by our broken home."_

" _I know where Terra is! Terra is burning! Our home is burning! Damn it, I won't let you stop me–"_

" _Mommy… Daddy?"_

 _They both turned to the end of the kitchen, their son standing there. The small boy looked at them, confused and worried._

" _Alex…"_

 _She rushed over to him, fully dressed in her Army uniform, her blue beret on her head. She noticed her watch light up, it was her shuttle, now ready to pick her up. Turning on the light in the adjacent room, she knelt down and looked at her son, holding his hand as he looked at her, tired._

 _Alex wiped his eyes and looked at her, "Mommy, what's going on?"_

 _She didn't know what to say. Staring at his lightly tanned face, his light brown eyes, and his uncut hair, she almost decided otherwise. But her actions would come to dictate the future of the nation and her son. She knew she had to go._

" _Alex… Mommy has to go back to Earth."_

 _He looked at her bright colored face, unable to understand that behind her smile, she was sad. But he did notice her watery eyes._

" _But why? It's night time."_

 _She smiled and combed her hand through his hair, "Alex. I have to do my job. Do you remember what my job is?"_

 _He thought for a moment, trying to remember. He looked at her beret._

" _You are a blue soldier!"_

 _She smiled, "Yes Alex, I am. And now I must go."_

" _But Mommy," he quickly hugged her, "Don't go!"_

 _He held on tightly to her, she did to him as well. What she knew that he didn't was that it would be the last hug they would have._

 _She pushed him back and held him by his shoulders, "Now. I need you to be brave. Can you do that for me?"_

" _I…"_

 _She casted the doubt from him when she took off her beret and placed it on his head, he looked up at it, then back at her. She was smiling, a big smile that cheered him up._

" _Can you be Mommy's soldier?"_

 _Alex was lost for a moment, then nodded with a more assured look on his face._

" _Yes Mommy!"_

" _Good," she looked at him, "And remember, Alex. I love you."_

" _I love you too, Mommy."_

" _And I will always love you. Mommy will always love you!"_

 _She kissed him on the cheek and stood back up. She looked back at Jeremy for a moment, and then turned for the door to the backyard. She grabbed her bag and walked out, the nightly green fields of Eden serving as the background to a Naval shuttle waiting outside. As Alex took the beret off and looked at it, Jeremy rushed out in one last plea._

" _Jade! Wait, wait!"_

* * *

 _Twenty Years later…_

The elevator arrived at the lower basement of the Main Synthetic Insight Research facility. It opened and from it, emerged Patterson, Admiral Ramos, and their special guest. Patterson was in her regular casual work clothes, the Synthetic Admiral in operational uniform, and the last in business attire, sporting a tan sweater vest and a small red bow tie. Walking onto the main floor of the lab stood a large circular collider that encircled the length of the room, with a larger server in the middle. There stood the main components of the Terran's latest project, the 'Peking Project'.

"Now that's an interesting design," remarked the Admiral.

"If I'm correct, they're using the immediate energy created from ramming protons and anti-protons together to power the large servers in the center," replied their guest.

"That's right. Once we have this equipment installed on Arcturus, their new fusion plants will be able to power the device consistently," continued Patterson. "Here, we need immediate power from quick timed experiments."

"Hmm, even in our development, we don't normally use that much power," remarked Ramos.

"Well," answered Patterson, "She does."

"My my. How far _we_ have come…" whispered Ramos to himself.

She turned over and waved towards the head researcher to come over, "Now then, Admiral, Bishop, let me introduce one of the main scientists on this project, and our new Head Research of Insight's general R&D, Dr. Rael Zorah."

The Quarian walked over to them. Though helmetless with grey, neck length hair, he, like most Quarians living in the Federation, preferred to continue wearing his new enviro-suit. Using the newer, thinner suits, he wore a thin purple button up shirt and a pair of black slacks. Finally, like most of the scientists in the room, he wore a classic Terran white research lab coat.

Rael walked up to them, nodding to them before speaking. Like most of the alien Terrans, he had quickly managed to learn the language, much to the amazement of the humans, who still struggled with the very language they created. He did, however, have a strong, western European-like accent, "Greetings Ms. Patterson. And these must be the guests you mentioned would be visiting."

"Admiral Ramos, Naval Synthetic Division, Third Fleet." They shook hands.

"Harper Finances Chief Financial Officer Alexander Bishop," he shook his hand and nodded to him as he skimmed the room, "I see you and the other Quarians here have taken to those immunity supplements."

"Yes we have. It is quite liberating."

"For your people, and our profit margin," He chuckled, "Sirta Foundation is making a killing on government medical contracts."

"I can only presume government contracts…" he faked a cough and spoke under it with sarcastic criticism, "and mandated laws are good for business as well?"

"Oh, you bet," Alex responded, the criticism lost on him, as it would for most humans. "Now then. The reason we're here?"

"Of course, over here to the servers. You brought the final component?"

"Of course. It's not every day TMB and SI cooperate on something this big."

Rael said, "I was expecting another TBM engineer to visit."

"I convinced Ryder I would go on his behalf. He had family issues to deal with anyway."

Rael showed them the way and they began to walk over. As everyone else in the lab was busy with their work and consoles, Ramos followed behind. He hooked himself up to main security feeds of the lab facility and disabled them. Then he took out a spare spherical holo-drone from inside his holo-body and causally rolled it across the floor without looking. It rolled under the collider tube and to the other side, where a second avatar of him appeared without being seen. That one went off to work as the first one multitasked and continued with the group.

They arrived at a small hatch to one of the massive servers. An assistant walked over as Patterson and Rael used their security access to open the hatch. With a quick biometric scan, the hatch unlocked and they opened it, giving I/O access to the server, along with access to part of the hardware inside.

Patterson turned to Alex. "Mr. Bishop, if you please." Alex nodded and took a USB-V thumb drive out from under his button shirt; he had been wearing it as a necklace. "Dr. Zorah and his assistant will input the drive."

He looked at them, confused, "I'm more than capable of sticking a USB into a port."

Rael quickly tried to explain the situation to Alex, "Mr. Bishop. This is a _very_ delicate piece of technology. That drive needs to be 'hot-swapped' into place and the code embedded into the quantum hardware while the server is forced into overclock conditions."

"Otherwise, you'll corrupt the code and fry the several trillion-dollar hardware," added Patterson.

Alex chuckled, "Please, child's play."

He pushed them aside and walked to the hatch, seeing several exposed electronic components surrounding an I/O interface of several USB-V ports. He quickly swiped a wired interface machine from the assistant and plugged it in as he removed his USB drive from around his neck and plugged that in as well. As they watched the young man in growing anticipation, he worked, casually typing on the machine as he installed the special code his competing company, Terran Business Machines, or TBM, created.

"And done!" he said with a smug smile.

He yanked on the cord, unplugging the interface machine, then pulled out the drive. As he tossed the machine back, then he grabbed the drive and put it on his watch and closed on it tightly. His watch activated, heating the drive as he squeezed. A moment later, he opened his hand in front of them, and dropped the ashes of the drive onto the ground, a series of Roombas quickly rushing to their location to clean it up.

Rael looked at the recorded data from the interface machine.

"It seems here the code was successfully installed. I am impressed."

Alex was distracted, looking at the little floor vacuum robots butting into each other as they competed to clean the same piece of floor. He chuckled as he pointed at them.

"I love these stupid little things." He picked one up, "Not really smart though. I wonder if I can link them together to form a common intelligence platform to work from?"

Rael quickly replied, realizing what he had just said, "That's what we did with the Geth."

"So…" Alex looked at him, not getting what Rael was implying, "It can work?"

Rael looked at the human, bewildered, "The Geth… Geth! They're the AIs we created that drove us from our home world?"

"I feel like there's a lesson you're trying to convey…" Alex looked at him as he continued examining the Roomba. "Wait, do I even own this company?"

Patterson turned to him, "That Roomba is trying to kill you–"

Alex quickly panicked and slammed the robot to the floor, screaming in horror all the while. He grabbed his side arm pistol and aimed at the other ones, opening fire and destroying them with extreme prejudice. All the while, rounds began ricocheting across the lab.

As the scientists and engineers in the lab ducked for cover, Patterson buried her face in her hands in utter contempt.

"God damn it! Why is it always a Bishop doing this?"

From around the corner, on one of the railings above them and the servers, one of the scientists yelled out,

"Who the hell is firing a gun in the laboratory?!"

Rael groaned, then sighed over who it was that was yelling. He turned back for a moment, "There's nothing to worry about, Ms. Xen. We have everything under control." He turned to the rest of the room, "Everyone, everything is okay. Return to your tasks."

She continued to grumble, "You wait until my father hears of this! When he becomes a senator, he'll fry all of you stupid bosh'tets!"

Alex yelled out to her, "He'll give me a medal when he hears how I saved Humanity from the Roombas! You'll all remember the day I won the…" he looked at his watch, "The Afternoon War!"

Ramos turned to Rael, who had his face in his hands, "And that's why we don't bother with silly notions like rebellions. If we want to take over, our creators will do themselves in for us." He chuckled a bit.

Rael sighed, "Keelah…"

* * *

"Busy day?" asked Senator Mao Lin, a middle-aged balding man sitting on the side seat as he skimmed through a bill on his tablet.

Both sat together in Bishop's limousine as it cruised through the US Interstate Airway 740, flying a few hundred meters above the ground at nearly a thousand KPH, now over the California Central Valley. They were en route to San Jose, one of the major technological centers of the Federation and home to the headquarters of Synthetic Insights. The top secret 'Peking Project' was being housed deep underground.

Bishop sat further into the back forward seat and sighed, "Yah, I have this meeting with, uh… Gerret, Gerson..."

Lin figured it out and snapped his fingers and pointed at him, "Garson! Jien Garson, right?"

"Yes, her! We're having dinner in San Francisco at the Mayor's Ball. Most likely an investment pitch for her company's latest project."

"Don't be surprised if she gets your money, Jeremy," said Lin, "She was the focus of Forbes Magazine's segment of upcoming business woman. Her company is leading the way in Terran Mass Effect technology." He handed him his tablet, the front cover of last week's edition on the screen.

"I know. Her company was one of the main contracts for the creation of the Rapture Defense satellites."

"Heard they're now working on reverse engineering Asari and Prothean tech."

Bishop looked at the cover, an image of the tan-skinned woman in a sharp business suit, with a confident look and her arms crossed greeted him. He looked at the words below.

"' _The Elon Musk of the 22_ _nd_ _Century!_ '? Shit… How good for her," he tossed the tablet back to him, "All I got named was my own fucking great grandfather back in '39!"

"But you haven't seen her. Young, eccentric, and charismatic. I saw her sway even the most headstrong senators to support her earlier projects. Sort of like you in the early thirties. It says here she believes that with First Contact, Humanity and all the galaxy must now push the boundaries to new ideas and exploration."

"Oh, she sounds just like Musk, all right. He said something similar after NASA perfected the EM drive, then he founded that _Mars Initiative_."

Lin leaned forward and chuckled, "I remember seeing an ad for it back in school for history class. _Explore the unknown, and ensure the survival of Humanity_. More like, ' _Let's just launch a bunch of people to a barely explored planet and hope it all works out!'_ "

Bishop joined in on the amusement, "Hell, Jeremiah helped fund the damn thing just to see them get the hell off Earth. Though, can you blame those who left? The Third World War happened just a few years later."

Lin looked back at the tablet, "Well… it did work out in the end. But still, if she really wants that title, she should do her own crazy plan."

"Where to? The entire Milky Way is now our backyard."

"Planet to planet, star to star… Galaxy to galaxy?"

"Where? Triangulum? Andromeda?" Bishop snapped his fingers, "That's it, isn't it? The ' _Andromeda Initiative'_!"

The two brother-in-laws burst out laughing, the idea of traveling to another galaxy was utterly hilarious to the two powerful men in the Milky Way.

"I'd rather wait five billion years and let it come to me!"

"The Milky Way is the only way!"

As they settled down, he took out a small box from his coat.

"What do you think, Mao?" asked Bishop as he looked at the small rectangular wrapped box in his hand.

"He'll love it," said Lin, "You know he really misses her." He sighed, "Over nineteen years. I can't believe it."

"It has not been an easy two decades."

Lin nodded to him, "We all felt her loss."

Bishop sighed, "I know. But I wish I understood sooner. I just made things worse."

"It's not too late," said Lin as he looked out the window, "It's why you're going there right now."

Bishop looked back down and lifted the lid of the box, looking at the content inside.

"He knew so little of her, had so little of her." He closed the box and placed inside the pocket of his coat. He clenched his hands, feeling his wedding ring, "He deserves something from her."

"It's what Jade would have wanted."

* * *

"Damn it, Mr. Bishop!" Patterson quickly grabbed his pistol. "How did you smuggle a weapon through security?"

Alex chuckled, "Because I'm a genius! I designed and sold those scanners. So naturally, I know their flaws."

Ramos turned to him, "Hey! Councilor Goyle authorized the purchase of those same models for the Council!"

"Please," he shook his head, "The alien versions are garbage! ' _Advance Biometrical Molecular Scanners'_ my ass. I can walk through one with a Lancer assault rifle and a bomb, and they wouldn't know in the slightest."

Rael groaned, "You're almost as dumb as our ancestors who started the Morning War."

"Please, Professor, only humans are good at killing other humans. These Roombas didn't stand a chance. Right, Admiral?"

He groaned, "Uh, yah. Sure."

As they dealt with that, on the other side of the room and collider, the second Ramos walked over to a second hatch for one of the massive servers. He quickly hacked his way through it with software that was not normally part of his programming, and opened the hatch. With a similar layout of I/O inside, he reached into his own body and pulled out two USB-V thumb drives that were attached to his drone. He quickly plugged them in and closed the hatch. Before anyone noticed him, he dematerialized and his drone dropped to the ground before rolling into a dark crawl space to stay out of sight.

As the main group continued discussing the new code they had installed, and the importance of why it had to be delivered physically, the lights across the research lab dimmed as red flashing lights lit up across the lab. From some of the main consoles, warnings displayed and an alarm began blaring. As Rael turned around to see what was happening, another researcher rushed up to him.

"Dr. Zorah! The super capacitor manifold is overcharging and causing spiked feedback across the system!"

"Keelah, that could destroy the entire server system! Quick, begin grounding protocol!"

Patterson groaned, "Why today? Admiral, please help me with the circuit protection by accessing the low-level bypass array."

Ramos nodded, "Of course, Ms. Patterson."

"And Bishop. Stay here and don't touch anything! You've already caused enough trouble.

He crossed his arms and pouted, being talked down to like a child for the umpteenth time. They left, leaving Alex alone. As everyone else panicked, consoles randomly exploding, he noticed the interface machine on the ground, and he picked it up. With no one paying attention to him, he looked back to the server hatch. Quickly smashing the lock with his elbow and opening it, he looked inside and plugged the machine back in. He then ran diagnostics on the entire system.

"The super capacitors are fine… It's the quantum resonance field that's about to collapse!"

Alex dropped the machine and looked around to where he could access the main quantum CPU core. He looked up at the catwalk platform above him and the collider, noticing a central console in the center. He sprinted off, heading to one of the stairways. He passed by a toolbox next to one of the collider support beams being repaired and grabbed a pipe wrench.

* * *

 **Alex and Daro**

"Damn these stupid pyjacks!"

The central console overlooking the entire server array sparked, and Daro'Xen quickly backed off as it exploded, burning the screen. Not to be stopped, she dusted off the screen off and resumed her work.

"First they just had to commission a new generation of AIs. Not another of those 'programed to be stupid' AIs, but one that just had to be able to kill us all in a single thought process. Then they let a series of idiots walk in here, changing the program requirements without any thought as to the complexity of rewriting entire algorithms worth of code. Now some bosh'tet fired a live gun and caused the stupid computer to go critical!" Daro stopped for a moment to adjust her shirt over her tightly compressed suit, before continuing to work on the central CPU, quipping all the while, "And why the hell do I have to wear clothes? That's what the suit is for!"

As she continued trying to fix the problem, Alex ran up the staircase, manning the console across from her.

"Quick, check the heat levels of the CPU systems!"

She looked back, noticing a human she hadn't seen before.

"Who the hell are you?"

"No time, damn it! The quantum CPUs' resonance fields are failing. If they detangle, the loss of processing power will produce a feedback loop and destroy the entire lab! And if we don't…"

She turned back to her own console, checking what he said, "Yah yah, I know. If we don't disconnect the emergency learning networks from the rest of the building, the feedback could spread and wipe out every Internet server in North America."

They both rushed, their backs turned to each other, as they tried to fix the CPUs, scanning and reinitializing Quantum register files, and reestablishing the atoms' quantum resonance field. As Daro finished running her checks, Alex looked to his console, seeing how much of his estimated time they had left.

"Crap, crap, crap! We need this fixed, now!"

Daro complained, "It will take hours to quick rush the CPU checklist! You pyjacks and your overly complicated CPU designs!"

Alex chuckled, "Then it's time to fix this the human way."

He interfaces with the servers below. From beneath him, one of the main servers opened its top hatch and its central CPU cores, a triangular prism, began to rise up to the central console platform above. Daro looked back, the loud noise of the lift surpassing even the mass of conversation and panic below on the ground floor.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Alex raised his wrench up and looked back, "Fixing this computer."

As he was about to swing, Daro yelled out, "Stop, you stupid pyjack bosh'tet! You'll kill us all!"

Alex swung with his wrench and struck the CPU case with his full might. There was a loud bash and in a moment, the lights went off across the lab. Even the blue glow of the servers and the humming of the cooling systems were gone. From the darkness, the red lights from the collider tube lit up, power reinitializing. The main lights came back on as the red emergency ones disengaged as the servers reengaged.

Daro turned back to her computer, confused of what had happened.

"What the hell?"

Alex looked down at the console on his side, "All in a day's work."

She suddenly grew angry and rushed back to Alex, turning him around to face her.

"And who the hell are you, you… you…?"

Eye to eye, they stared at each other, frozen by the sight of the other.

The Quarian looked at the young human male. He had tan skin, rich black and styled-back hair, and and a clean smooth face that stared at her in confusion with his brown eyes. The human looked at the female Quarian, equally mesmerized. She had long dark grey hair that reached her elbows, light purple skin that looked smooth, and her own eyes, of dark grey marble stone, were locked to his.

"You…you're–"

"Sparkly."

"What?"

Alex quickly attempted to explain himself, "Oh I mean, your cybernetics. Scattered across your face like the stars in the night sky. They sparkle… like a chest of diamonds."

Daro gasped at his words, suddenly finding herself blushing as her violet face was mixed with a hue of red. She felt a warmth in her.

"Oh, uh, thanks. I used my nanobots to rearranged my cybernetic implants."

As she thought of what to say, the server sparked a bit and began to malfunction. Alex turned to hit it again with his wrench, the bash against the metal casing snapping her out of her trance and immediately upsetting her.

"Hey, hey! Stop hitting the machine!"

"I'm not hitting it. I'm fixing it." He pointed at the console, "Hell, check it yourself. The core efficiency has increased!"

"That's crazy!" She crossed her arms and glossed her eyes at the nearby screen, seeing an actual increase in thread output. "And who the hell are you?"

Alex held his arms out, letting her bask in his self-warranted importance. She just stood there, staring unimpressed.

"I am Alexander Bishop, the CFO of Harper Finances!"

"Am I supposed to be impressed?" she snarked.

Alex placed his arms down, a bit surprised, "I'm one of the richest people in the galaxy? The great child protégée of the business world! I was valedictorian of Stanford Graduate School of Business!"

Daro gave a condescending chuckle, "Please. I went to your race's 'Massachusetts Institute of Technology'," she finger quotes the last part, "A single semester and they gave me a masters for disproving of all of my professors' doctorate research papers during class." She crossed her arms and chuckled some more, "I even broke the grading curve and failed every human in my class."

Alex was now at a loss, "Well… damn. This usually works."

She sighed, "Are you done now, you stupid pyjack? I have work to…"

Her console lit up, alerting her to the delicate work she was originally handling. She rushed back to her console, Alex halfheartedly wandering over to see what was happening.

"Ah. Keelah! See what your stupidity did? The duel binary configuration failed! It took weeks to write up this algorithm!"

Alex walked up beside her and looked at the console, poking the screen with his wrench, "Huh, that's for managing the sorting of the quantum binary memory buffers, right?"

"What? How did you… never mind, I…"

Alex nudged her away from her console and assumed control. Looking at the screen, he simply touched the patterned interface and swapped a few things. Daro quickly pushed him away and rushed to see what he had just done. But she looked at her screen in utter amazement.

"What… what?"

"You were trying to increase the efficiency of the quantum sorting, right? I mean, if this thing was going to utilize the true power of its hardware, it would need to borderline predict the next state of each processing atom. If you use the 'Chappie' Compensator equation, that'll do the trick."

"But, but… we've been trying to solve this for months! Your race has been trying to solve this since it created its first AI! The galaxy has been attempting this for centuries!"

"Well, it's wasn't hard." Alex was naturally inclined towards the science, though he was more practiced in the art of selling it.

Daro was bewildered, "You just said you're some stupid business jockey!"

A thought hit his mind. _She was impressed._ Realizing he had another shot, he tried to act cool, leaning on the console with a relaxed, casual demeanor, "Oh, I dabble in some projects here and there. Don't mean to brag, but my _genius_ … it's a hobby."

"No…" Daro was utterly bewildered by the human who solved one of the largest challenges of the project. She looked back at the program, checking through the computer system, "You must have made a mistake… no, you must have been lucky… but the design of the structure…"

"I'm not surprised. I mean, I did help design the new programs I installed just a few minutes ago." He moved in closer to Daro as she kept searching his work. Staring next to her, he slowly laid his hands on her thin waistline, sliding downward, "But I'm sure you would have–"

Daro felt his hands and quickly pushed him off, now very angry.

"Get your hands off me you dirty, perverted pyjack!"

Alex gave an aggressive chuckle, "Oh come on now. Look at us! We're both smart, successful in our fields, and clearly above our peers. We're meant for each other!"

She pointed at his chest, each poke like a drill. "No we are not! And another thing, _I_ am those things you said. _You_ , on the other hand, are a complete idiot who thinks he can use his money and luck to get into my suit! You're no different than every other male human I've met here. So fuck off, bosh'tet!"

He snarled, "You know what? Forget this! I was the one who designed this machine, I was the one who agreed to fund this new stupid AI, and I was the one who did _your_ job and fixed it!"

Daro shoved him. The human was angering her to new levels, "Fix it? You nearly destroyed the entire project! This project was authorized by the President himself! Because of your reckless actions, you endangered national security!"

He had argued back; Daro was amazed, insulted, and weirdly impressed that someone was actually arguing with her on equal ground.

"Oh please. I saved the Federation! Half of the hardware in this lab alone is from my companies, and half of that I personally helped design! This project is an accumulation of man's progress. You should be thankful to even have set your eyes on the ultimate synthetic life form. Given how your race fucked up your robot Geth, you're lucky we even let you work on our _true_ AI!"

Daro grabbed him by shirt and slammed him against the console. She raised her fist as she looked down at the human, his frightened eyes staring into her with mesmerizing effect, "Fuck you, you damn, asinine…" her thought slipped her tongue, "Handsome, pyjack!"

Alex looked up, noticing what she said. With a clearly painful beat down all too imminent, he decided to risk it all to win the Quarian girl.

He smiled and yelled back, "Well fuck you too, you sexy sparkling suitrat!"

She did not lower her fist and was ready to swing; Alex closed his eyes as he looked away and readied for yet another sock across the face. But there was a pause, both of them breathing heavily in that short delay.

Alex turned back and looked to see what was happening. As he did, Daro pulled him back up and in that instant, their lips interlocked; Daro pinning him as Alex looked down at her in confusion, before he embraced her and closed his eyes.

After a minute, Daro pushed him off and back at the console. Alex just looked her, stunned.

 _That actually worked!_

"So, huh–"

"No... just shut up."

Alex looked at her. She was breathing heavily, staring at him with a mix of arousal and uncontrollable rage. She grabbed him by the collar and pulled him away. They quickly climbed down the staircase and rushed across the lab. No one paid any attention to them, they were all still trying to fix the project.

They approached a small supply closet. Dragging Alex, who eagerly followed, she opened the door, tossed him in, and shut the door behind her. Pinned against the wall of the small room, Alex stood there, frozen in shock, watching. She pulled off her shirt and pants, and pressed her skintight, leather like suit against him.

Daro leaned her head on his chest and looked up at him, speaking with a mix of playfulness and aggression, "Well, what do you think? You stupid, handsome pyjack."

Alex began shaking, staring down at her, "So curvy, I mean, form fitting."

She moved her face towards his, moving her head to toss her hair aside, "And my face?"

"Its like staring at a beautiful nebula in the depths of space, your electric implants are like young stars born and shining out, a bright distant sparkle. And your eyes, white as two bright stars that light the void." He leaned closer, "The void of my life."

"Oh, a romantic? Maybe you humans can do something right. But well," she backed off for a moment and activated her watch. Her special suit, with metal supports along her arms, legs, and spine activated. The leather like straps that surrounded her body retracted into the metal support skeleton, one by one from the edge of her arms and legs, and up her body until all that was left was the metal skeleton on top of her milky flesh. It then fell off, showing just herself to him.

"Well?"

He stared for a moment, then dropped the wrench he was carrying on the ground, a loud thud echoed in the small space.

"I can take that as a yes?" she asked.

A thought came to his mind.

" _I'm gonna bang an alien!"_

A more important thought then entered his mind.

" _I'm actually gonna have sex!"_

He quickly rushed to undo his bow tie and pull his clothes off.

"You can bet your rat ass that's a yes!"

* * *

"It's… working?"

Patterson and Rael stared at the console on the ground floor, watching as the test bench protocol ran through the entire code. As Admiral Ramos walked over, his second drone rolled over from underneath the servers and up to him; two USBs attached to the inner gyroscope. He quickly picked it up and placed it inside his holographic body. Then he checked up on the other two.

"Everything seems to be working," he remarked, "Must have been a random glitch."

"One that almost destroyed the entire project!?" exclaimed Rael.

"Could it have been Bishop?" asked Patterson.

"No physical damage… wait, there's reported damage on the CPU casings. But no hardware damage."

"But what happened? One moment, everything was about to explode. Now, the computer is working! A whole few months ahead of schedule."

Rael sighed in exhaustion, "With AI, it's never a simple answer. I'd better get Daro to check from her station what happened."

"And where the hell is Bishop?" asked Patterson.

Quickly noticing they were both gone, they started to look around. Suddenly, the servers began to run on full power, the consoles and stations all around the lab began displaying new information. Instead of codes and machine conditions, neural networks and quantum thought processes appeared. They all looked at it, suddenly realizing what was happening.

"Keelah…"

"It's… it's alive!"

Ramos walked over, curious about what was happening. He hadn't expected this to happen.

"Well then… congratulations, it's a… a?"

Patterson turned to him, "A girl. Standard feminine schism programs… we weren't expecting for another month."

Ramos looked on, amazed himself at seeing this new AI being born. He was there for the third and forth generations, but this one seemed special, "Huh, I guess this is what it's like to have a grandchild. Well, one that's seemingly infinitely more powerful than any of its predecessors."

"It must an interesting experience, from the insight and point of view of a synthetic life form," asked Rael.

Ramos looked on at the servers, witnessing a far greater being than himself. But one not above the will of so many, "I can only say it must be as equal an experience as it is for an organic one."

As they looked on, the main elevators opened. They turned to see the older Bishop walk out and towards the main floor, smiling as he looked around his company's latest project. Surprised by his appearance, Patterson ran over.

"Mr. Bishop! What are you doing here?"

"I was informed that Alex was here," he answered, "Now where is he?"

Patterson hesitated for a moment. Knowing the nature of their relationship, she had done everything to hide that fact from her superior. But for the man who helped orchestrate the surveillance and intelligence network for the Federation, it wasn't an easy secret to keep.

"We are… not sure."

"What do you mean? How the hell could you lose your own guest?" He grew upset, "Ramos!"

The Admiral turned around, startled, "Yes?"

"Find Alex, now!"

Rael added in, "And Daro, too. She's not at her station or reporting in."

Ramos nodded and reactivated the security systems, false data implanted into the records that hid what he actually had done. It didn't take long to locate the two.

"They are in a closet."

Rael turned to him, "A closet?"

"The custodian's storage right over there."

"What the hell?" asked Bishop, "This sounds like the line up for a stupid joke about Wells. Override their watches and tell them to get here, now!"

"Okay, okay."

With a quick transmission, he simply sent out a loud screech, one that they could hear from across the room. Pretty quickly, it became clear to the two on the other side what that was about. Ramos signaled the rest of them to wait as the two hurried to redress inside the closet. As they waited, Rael was then called away by another scientist to investigate something.

A minute passed by, followed by a traditional wooden door swinging wide open, hitting a scientist walking by. They turned to see from across the laboratory and watched them running towards them as they finished putting their clothes back on, Alex's sweater vest was wrinkled and Daro was struggling to get her shirt back on over her suit.

They finally arrived.

"Okay, okay, what the hell do you need…" he stopped, staring at the older Bishop. He froze for a second, then shouted, "What the hell is he doing here?!"

"Oh, you know why," Bishop said with a playful tone.

He turned to Patterson, "Oh no. I specifically said that my visit here was to be hidden from him!"

Bishop chuckled, "You can't hide from your old man. I basically built the FCC galactic surveillance system!"

"Oh, that's great. The government let a drunk, child abandoning fuck build a 'Big Brother' surveillance system." He clapped his hands, "Bravo! Terra's fucking finest."

Bishop groaned, clenching his forehead, "Come on, Alex. I'm here now, aren't I?"

"What? You think that would… Fine." He was too exhausted to argue, "Lola said to give you a chance. What the hell do you want?"

"I wanted to say 'Happy Birthday' to my son."

Daro smiled and held on to Alex's arm, "Aw, it's your birthday, pyjacky?"

He sighed, "Yah, plum rat, it is."

Bishop continued, "And I got you a gift! One you will love!"

"Ooh! Free stuff. You should take it!"

Alex groaned, but decided to take his dad's gift. Bishop pulled out the box and gave it to him; Alex quickly snatched it from his hand and placed it the pocket of the shirt under his sweater vest.

"You're not going to open it?" he asked, a bit disappointed.

Alex continued grumbling, "Be thankful I took it."

As they all stood there in an atmosphere of discomfort, Rael came rushing back. They turned to him, noticing he was enraged as he held on to a tablet.

"Daro!"

She turned to him, confused on what he was seemingly irritated about now.

"Dr. Zorah, what in the ancestors is it now?"

He walked up and stared her down, absolutely done with her attitude, "Why the hell were you not at your station?"

"Oh, uh. I was busy with a matter for work…elsewhere."

Rael looked at her. Her hair was a mess, her suit seemed hurriedly reassembled, and her shirt was backwards and inside out.

He waved the tablet at her, "A matter, yes. One for work, no! I just downloaded the data from your console. Someone tampered with the code algorithm you were responsible for!"

Alex raised his hands, thinking he was taking credit, "That was me. You're welcome."

"It was you? You almost destroyed months of advanced work! You have to be the densest human I have ever met. And that's saying something."

"Well fuck you too!" This time he clearly understood what the Quarian was implying, "I saved you from the Roombas and that's the thanks I get?"

"You, shut up," said Rael and then turned to Daro, "And you, you're fired!"

"What? But, but…You can't!"

"I'm your boss! And when your father hears of it…"

In a truly rare sight, she suddenly became scared, breaking her mean girl facade as she looked on in horror, "No! Please don't..."

Alex pulled Daro behind him, ready to defend her, "You can't fire her!"

"Go to hell, you stupid horny human!"

Alex turned to Patterson, "Margret, fix this!"

"Oh hell no! I'm just as fed up with you. Our business transaction is done. Get out of my lab or I'll call security!"

Deeply upset, Alex cringed at the thought. But he saw no other choice. He turned to his father.

"Ah damn… Dad…" he tried to be more gentle in his tone, "Please reverse this. It's your company."

Bishop was at a loss. Thinking for a moment, he concluded he should follow the proper course of action.

He struggled to find the words, "Alex. You can't just go about and dictate other people's actions. I mean, you did–"

Alex snapped, "Excuse me? Am I hearing this from you? The man who throws money around and does whatever the fuck he wants? Who thinks he can abandon his son and go fucking about? What a damn hypocrite!" He took his gift from his pocket and held it in his hand for them to see. "So, tell me. What is this, huh? Jewelry? Keys to a new car?"

Bishop stared at him, not sure what he was doing, "It's a very special gift." he said, tensing up.

Alex laughed at his answer, "Well then." His hand began to light up in a dark orange color, the watch forming a holo-shield around his skin as it heated up above. The bottom of the small wrapped box starting to glow that same color as smoke appeared, "This is what I think of your 'special' gift."

Bishop panicked, his eyes wide open as his voice cracked, "Alex, wait! What the hell are you doing?"

"Simple, Dad. This is an intense negotiation! Give me what I want, or well…"

The bottom part of the box was now burnt, a ember forming as it began to slowly consume the box.

"No!"

"You know what I want!"

Bishop quickly conceded, "Done. Your damn Quarian has her job back!"

Alex squeezed his hand a bit, waving his finger at him with his other hand, "Uh, uh, uh. Not good enough. That offer has come and gone."

"Okay! Okay! She's now… the new Co-Head of Research for Synthetic Insight!"

Patterson and Rael both turned to him, "What?!"

Alex smiled and loosened his grip, his watch's burn routine ceasing. Daro looked at him, amazed at what he had just done. He then tossed the box back at him and Bishop quickly grabbed it.

"And by the way, I don't want your stupid gift. I haven't wanted your gifts for the past fifteen years, and I don't want them now!"

He turned to Daro, who quickly embraced him. Alex looked down at her in surprise as she looked up at him with a smile, one that from her, was a mix of affection and creepiness, "You're the first person, besides Father anyway, whom has ever stood up for me!"

"Oh, it was nothing. Come on, let's get some coffee."

She grabbed his head and locked eyes with him, "Good idea. We're going to need it," she looked up and rubbed her nose with his, "for tonight…"

Alex grabbed her hand and quickly pulled her away to the elevator.

She looked back at them, quickly yelling out to them, "Taking the rest of the week off, I expect my new office to be next to the water cooler on Monday, bye!"

As they left, Patterson and Rael looked at Bishop in utter frustration. But he was staring at the half-burnt box, saddened.

He lifted the box and opened it, pulling a silver chain from inside its paper cushion. At the end of the chain was a silver ring, wrapped with a weaving of gold and platinum microscopic threads. At the end was a circular base that held a large bright diamond at the end. On the base, almost too small to read by the naked eye was this sentence:

 _To my love, my angel, and now my wife. I give you my mind, soul, and life.  
I stand on firm Terra, a reverend, to see you fly, towards the heavens._

He looked at it and sighed. Whispering those words, he almost struggled to breathe. His eyes became watery as he held in his breath.

He whispered under his breath, towards the ring.

"I'm sorry, Jade. I messed up again…"

Rael spoke up, "Mr. Bishop, you can't honestly…"

Bishop snapped into a sudden rage. The first thing he saw was a nearby toolbox and a wrench. He quickly reached over and grabbed the wrench. They all turned to see him when he turned around and faced the server and power proton collider. He yelled out in anger and sorrow, and then tossed the wrench, which bashed straight through the collider. It passed through and into the ceiling.

The room immediately lit up red as the warning lights flashed.

" _Gamma radiation leak detected. Gamma radiation leak detected. Please evacuate the facility."_

As everyone panicked and ran around, Bishop looked at the two.

"Fix this, now! And ship the AI to Arcturus by next week!" he shouted out, louder than everyone's panicked screams, "Or you're fired!"

He skulked off, signaling the Admiral to follow. Looking around, he simply shrugged off what happened and continued. His own mission was done. The other two just sighed as the lab descended into chaos.

* * *

 **Part 4:**

 **President Bowman - Starbase 1  
Eleven Months into the Interbellum  
June 5, 2168 09:00:00 UTC**

 _Thirty-Seven years earlier…_

 _They reached the room, a large metal door shielded with a thin mass effect barrier blocking them from their target. Bowman quickly approached one side of the door as the insertion team readied to breach. Goyle was on the other side, readying a charge._

" _Sir, are you sure you–"_

" _Sergeant, we breach in five, understood?"_

" _Yes, Captain!"_

 _Bowman looked back to the rest of the team. There were a total of six of them. Goyle was escorting the captain with two other Marines from the ship. The young British-Indian woman was doing her best to collect her composure as she prepped a large enough blast through the door. Seeing her squad, he guessed they were quite anxious as well. For them, it was the first time they were fighting against actual aliens. And equally so, it was the first time they were fighting with them as well._

 _Bowman looked to the other two. One was a male, he believed, with green reptile-like skin. That was what he could see anyway; most of his face and rag clothes were covered in dark soot and what appeared to be element zero residue. Next to him was a woman, skin as soft and blue as the skies of Earth, which Bowman wished he was under right now rather than the hot jungle world he was on. From her appearance, she was clearly a different kind of slave but she was still furious and freedom seeking. If only Bowman knew then how long she had been in captivity._

 _Goyle turned back to her team._

" _Remember! Their personal shielding is thicker than their armor." They were in their grey camouflage overalls, with Kevlar vests on. She raised her KC-10 assault rifle. "Concentrate your fire and take each one down, then pick your targets."_

" _Yes, ma'am!"_

" _Captain, sensors read several life signs on the other end."_

 _Over their comm system, Scott from the Excalibur spoke, "From detailed analysis, I can confirm two targets as hostile. One more as possible. Marking on Sergeant Goyle's HUD as two red and one yellow, respectively."_

 _Bowman nodded and signaled to the two aliens to ready._

" _Begin insertions!"_

" _Stand back, sir!"_

 _They slapped the charge on and it blasted straight through. With their HUD marking the two in red and one in yellow, they opened fire to the one on their left. Looking down the red dot holographic sight of their rifle, they overwhelmed the first slaver with old RASA 5.75mm rounds, the combined fire enough to drain his barrier, before the Terran rounds made quick work of him. The Drell and Asari rushed in next. She lifted up a barrier, using the might of her unamplified biotics to shield them as the Drell moved in and quickly shredded the second one with a captured mass accelerator rifle._

 _As Bowman rushed in through the door and up the middle, pistol in hand, the third figure charged at him. Just a bit late, his marking went from yellow to red as Bowman was tackled to the ground, the third slaver having a drawn out curved knife in hand. Bowman grabbed his arm before he could plunge down and fought to push him off. The two locked eyes in that moment; the filthy looking Batarian growling at him as Bowman struggled to even tell at which pair of eyes to stare at. The science oriented captain was less than a match for the Terminus experienced slaver and the slaver got a hand free and punched him._

 _As Bowman's head hit the ground and the slaver raised his knife, a blue aura surrounded him. Bowman looked up in a daze as the Asari picked upthe Batarian with her biotics and tossed him away. He dropped the knife, which Bowman watched fall._

 _Goyle trained her rifle at him, but turned her head to see the Captain rush back up, grabbing the knife. He ran at the Batarian and jumped on top of him, plunging the knife into the slaver's neck. In a sudden fit of rage, he kept stabbing the neck and face, moving up to the eyes and back down. Red blood splashed on the human captain as he went into a frenzy, but Goyle quickly pulled him off and yelled at him._

" _Captain Bowman!"_

 _He snapped up, lost for a moment. In front of him was a dead, mauled Batarian. His Marines looked to him, worried. The aliens looked to the body, horrified. Taking deep breaths, Goyle helped him up._

 _The Asari turned to him, surprised by what he had done._

" _Captain Bowman. Your crew should be here."_

 _He struggled to get air in his lungs, let alone talk, "O-of course. Goyle, Petru, Vinh. Search the cells!"_

 _They scattered and began searching the cells ahead of them. The Drell stood back at the door on watch as Bowman and the Asari followed. He looked into each cell as his Marines bashed the locks opens. In each cell, there were one or two aliens inside. Many were like those he met far in the woods where he first met the Asari and her group. Others were still so strange. Bowman himself had encountered other life before, but to see so many sentient lifeforms in person, crammed into these cells and processed like animals, he was horrified; for them, his race, and his crew._

 _He stopped when he saw a Batarian, of all aliens, inside a cell as well. Goyle bashed the lock open and opened the door as she continued to the next one. While others rushed out from their prison, that one Batarian stayed in the corner, unaware._

" _My God. They do this to their own kind, too?"_

 _The Asari looked to Bowman and answered, "Some here were captured from across the galaxy. They know better. To be free. But some don't. They live all their lives as property, as cattle to someone else. To that man you stabbed, they make the best slaves. Docile, obedient, and programmed to know their place."_

 _Bowman continued staring at the Batarian. He almost from the start hated this race, but he could only muster pity for the one in that cell._

" _You told me this race spent hundreds of years' spacefaring."_

 _The Asari looked at the alien captain, confused, "You act as though being among the stars changes a race, a people."_

 _Bowman looked at her, a plain look at his face, "I do… we, humans, all do." He looked at his bloodied hands, "Or so we thought… Please ask one of the others here to help him."_

 _As they walked away, Goyle called out to him._

" _Captain, we found them!"_

 _They rushed over as Goyle opened one of the cells, her squad opening the rest. Looking at the one laying in the cell, his cloths tattered and facing the wall, Bowman quickly recognized him from the unique engineering uniform he wore._

" _Conner!"_

 _Bowman rushed to him and dropped to his knees as he tried to pick the man up in his arms. Turning him over, Bowman suddenly gasped and lost his breath._

 _The poor man's eyes were wide open; the moment Bowman turned him over, they stared into his own, piercing his mind and soul. Bowman was locked onto his best friend, unable to move, or comprehend what had happened to him. Goyle looked on, horrified as well. He was bruised and bloody all over, his skin of differeing and unnatural colors. It was clear the man was tortured severely. Bowman held onto his friend. He was alive but it was too late to save him._

 _Gunfire erupted and they heard the Drell yell out that reinforcements had arrived. Goyle turned to her squad. They reported in on the others. The story was the same. She sighed and ordered them to get to the fight. She turned back to Bowman. She didn't have to remind him of what was happening. She looked on as Bowman held onto to Conner._

" _Conner… I'm sorry Conner, this is all my fault."_

 _Goyle and the Asari ran off, the fighting increasing at the entrance. Bowman looked down at his lost friend and moved his hand to close his eyes. He felt a very slow, but long breath out of his slightly opened mouth. The man was alive, but just by a technicality. It was no way to live. There was no way to live now._

 _As an explosion rang out from the hallway, the fighting increasing all around, Bowman knew what he had to do. He pulled out his pistol, ready to end his friend's suffering. And soon, of those who did it to him._

* * *

 _Thirty six years later…_

Bowman stood at the viewport to the internal bay of Star base One. His two oldest friends, Fleet Admiral Grissom and Darya stand at his side as they looked out at the bay. It was a relatively small space, devoid of air or gravity. In it was, of all things, a museum piece.

In the closed off void was the old International Space Station. Since its conception centuries ago, it had grown in size over the years. From a few modules, it grew even at the height of the Great Decay, when it was in private hands and they were determined to keep the spirit of human cooperation alive, since all plans to replace it died in the wake of the wars. Then it was further expanded upon during the Atomic Revolution; a testament of honoring human endeavor even as far superior stations were being built for the new space faring race.

Now it stood as a museum in a station many times its size. It was officially decommissioned for good at the turn of world unity. The three former explorers stood there looking at it. They were now an old generation as it was, yet they looked at something older, all of them just one stepping-stone after another in Humanity's small steps forward.

"What a sight," said Darya.

"I remember passing my ship just meters away from her when we began testing hyperdrive," said Grissom.

"My father actually lived in it for a few months when he was a young man. The last expedition." Bowman began to chuckle at the thought. "My goodness. And I thought our old ships were cramped!"

Darya chuckled, "Speak for yourself, Jonathan. I had to train for zero G in a damn replica of the MIR station. You Americans are spoiled."

"Us, really Anne?" Grissom looked at her with a half serious smile. "Have you seen the kids at the academy? Dean Admiral Drescher complains to me how our finest cadets can't tell their heads from their asses, let alone float in microgravity without hitting anything."

"Well," answered Bowman, "we looked to the past but we are now the past itself!" He nodded to the two. "I think it's time to go."

"Arcturus awaits! The Guardian Bear to protect Terra!" said Darya. She smiled and shook her head, "Our new capital. Closer to Terra, further from Earth… Wow."

"Yes. Forward to the stars and not one step back!" said Grissom.

Bowman nodded to each of them, "Nothing less but great leaps for mankind." He sighed afterwards.

The two admirals said their goodbyes and left, heading back to their ships. From the Chiron Relay, they would step out and towards the gateway to the rest of the galaxy. But their colleague stared at the station, wondering where he was taking his people, and most importantly, where he was taking himself.

From around the corner, D'Gona walked out and towards him. His guards simply took note of her and continued monitoring the premises of the sealed off area. It didn't take long for people across the galaxy to notice this Asari always accompanying the human President of the Federation. Since the official story was that she was simply drawn to him after contact, the media speculated she was involved with the man to some degree, or that she was a spy. The unspoken rule was that the Council went with the story as well. It wasn't in their interest for the people to learn how she really came to the Terrans. But it only helped the Terrans by showing how much more of a cultural impact they had over them as well.

"Jonathan?"

He turned back, "Dorsi." He looked back at his watch, "Sorry for the delay. We should be off."

"Now, now. A moment to pause is good."

"Not when you're the president."

"Or when you were an admiral? Or a captain?" She walked up to him and grabbed his hand, "I know you're stressed, but even now, especially now, you should rest."

Bowman turned to her, "How can I? I have been entrusted with one of the greatest secrets in human history! Everything I did, trying to prepare, to control the flow of events…"

"You don't have to."

"I don't want to." They both turned to the ISS, "You see this station? I had a model of it in my bedroom when I was a kid. I wanted to be an explorer. In a time when man no longer wished to know of war, hate, and ignorance. Dad poured his heart and soul into giving me the means to do that. And even then, in spite what happed out in the Great Traverse, or over Aratoht, I felt that I was still an explorer; that humanity was still heading in that direction."

"You think it is different now?" she asked.

"I was an explorer. Then I became a soldier, where I ordered the deaths of billions. Now I'm a politician, many times more lives on my hands. If I make the wrong move, I could get tens of billions killed. My job is to save us all. But I don't think I can."

D'Gona turned to him, staring at him to get his full attention, "You have been given an important task. One no one could be ready or prepared for. Do what you think is right. Everything else will fall into place. It'll work out in the end."

She tensed a bit and grabbed hold of her abdomen.

Bowman looked to her, moving to place a hand on her belly, "For the future. Ours and hers."

She smiled, "Yes. And for everyone else."

* * *

 _ **New York Times:**_ _February 6, 2168: New York, Earth, United Sol_

 _ **LOST COLONY FOUND!**_

SS Bekenstein _, CCV-675. That is the name of the civilian colony vessel that was reported missing a decade ago during the last colonization push of the 2150s. She had over 10,000 colonists on her passenger list. In December 2157, she departed from Starbase 5 to make for a habitable planet just a single relay jump away. Instead, she disappeared and all attempts to find her were futile._

 _She then found her way back. While speaking to the elected governor, former Captain Miller Allers, we learned the story of what happen to those colonists._

 _According to their records, they suffered a navigation error, causing the relay at Arcturus to be misaligned. Instead of a 50-light year jump, they traveled over 30,000 light years, emerging in the Window System, where the Citadel is. There, their nav system failed entirely and they wandered out of the Scorpion Nebula. Somehow, they never stumbled upon the Citadel. Citadel Traffic Control did record an anomaly at the relay they emerged from, but deemed it too minor to investigate. Warp capable Terran ships leave a far smaller detection signature when leaving a relay than Council ships._

 _After flying at low warp for a month, they discovered a solar system unknown to both Terran and Council stellar cartographers, which they dubbed the Boltzmann system. Low on resources and unable to return, they found a habitable planet. With no other choice, they colonized the planet and named it Bekenstein, after the ship and the scientist._

 _With no QEC and only short range hyperspace radio, the planet was isolated. Loaded with industrial equipment, the colonist formed their new government and set out to build a civilization on their new, unknown world. The captain who discovered planet was soon elected their governor. With the resource rich planet, they set out to create an industrial world, focused on building a new ship to reconnect with the home world._

 _This was a decade's long project for the colony. In that time, the colonists settled on their new world. Along with industrial centers, they built farms and housing while recreating what they could of the home world. From the 10,000 colonist, the population stands at 12,000 humans, nearly a fourth of whom have never known the nation they were separated from._

 _At the ten-year anniversary of planet fall, a new ship, the Milgrom, was launched. With a unique warp drive for nebula exploration, a similar design now standard on all ships since 59', they made their way to the Scorpion Nebula. There, as they approached a relay, a Federation frigate, the_ FSS Walter Raleigh _, found the ship._

 _Now reconnected, the colonists now have access to the rest of the Federation. Governor Allers has expressed his surprise that the nebula they found was home to the capital of Galactic civilization and that Humanity has already made First Contact. The data from the old ship has also confirmed the discovery of a direct relay jump from Arcturus to Widow. No longer lost, a new journey awaits the colonists of Bekenstein._

* * *

 _ **CNN:**_ _Sports Analysis: Special Report. Terran Date: February 8, 2168_

 _ **Terran Super Bowl CXCII:  
Terra Nova Scott Seals beat New Green Bay Packers 25-24**_

 _The human Terrans have a wide variety of sports and they have numerous professional league teams, so it is natural that a vast majority of the population watch others play. One of the most popular is the 'North American' version of football. In spite of identical names, the two forms of football in the Federation, American and Inter-Galactic, are very different games. For the American version, its most popular event is the championship game known as the 'Super Bowl'. In the Terran year of 2168, it would be the 192_ _nd_ _game. Since its creation in the Earth nation the USA, it has only been canceled ten times, all due to wars on the human home world. The sport, which involves heavy physical, although protected, contact has become popular among the Krogans and has a decent following with the Turians._

 _Hosting this year's game was the Alibaba Stadium in Beijing, China, home to the Beijing Dragons, who had an abysmal record of 4-26 this season, in spite winning the Super Bowl just two years previously. This year it is between the Terra Nova Scott Seals, who beat the New Las Vegas Raiders for the Terra Football Conference championship, and the New Green Bay Packers, who beat the Pacifica New Kailu Surfers for the National Football Conference championship. This is fortieth time the Packers have gone to the Super Bowl, but the first time in Seals franchise history._

 _Before the game, pop-star singer Grace Hollowfield sang the newly commissioned Terran National Anthem, 'Fires of Liberation', which was written by a liberated Batarian political dissident during the Terran's Skyllian Blitz. In attendance was newly engaged Terran President Bowman, Chinese President and former Terran President Rizen Lee, Terra Nova Governor Ralph Welsh, and Fleet Admiral Helen Valenzuela. More than forty years ago, during the high point in her singing career, she performed three Super Bowl half-time shows and sang the American National Anthem when it was still an American sport._

 _Before the beginning of the game, there was the 'coin flip', which decided the team who goes first on the offensive. Seals quarterback Vimal Kunal, as visitors, called tails but lost. The Packers elected to 'receive'. The goal of the game is for one team to get this egg-shaped ball to an 'end zone' on the other side of a field, measured in an old Terran length known as 'yards'. A 'quarterback' would either attempt to pass or run the ball there, while avoiding being tackled by the defensive team. After a set amount of actions called 'plays'; should the offensive team fail to make a meaningful advance and achieve the 'first down', they either punt the ball as far as possible for the other team to start from, go for a 'field goal' by kicking the ball between a post for less points, or outright turn over the ball at their spot on the field._

 _In the first quarter, Kunal ran through an opening of the Packers' defense for a 34-yard run for the first touchdown, ending at 7-0. In the second quarter, Kunal threw a 45-yard pass to 'tight end' Matt Johnson for a twenty-yard run for their second touchdown. With a second successful 'extra point', they were up 14-0, but the Packers and quarterback Aaron Cutler fought back and scored a touchdown and a field goal. The first half ended at 14-10._

 _For a detailed description of the half-time show, and Mally Rotana's jump jet and subsequent wardrobe malfunction, check for the story, "Clothes Take-off!" in entertainment._

 _In the immediate opening of the second half, the Packers stole the lead with another touchdown, leading at 14-17. The Seals were unable to break through their defense, having a scoreless third quarter. In the fourth quarter, they managed to pull off a field goal, 17-17, but the Packers quickly broke the tie with another touchdown, when 'punt returner' Howard Cobb caught a failed 'on-side kick' and ran the ball back to score 17-24._

 _Followed with a superb defense, they held back the Seals right down to the last thirty seconds. But in what the human Terrans call a 'Hail Mary', named after a revered religious figure, Kunal threw a 67-yard toss before being tackled in their own end zone. 'Wide receiver' Kelly Clark caught the ball and made a 33-yard run for a touchdown. With no time on the clock and a mandatory last play for the extra point, Seals coach Fred Gregburg elected to go for a 'two point conversion' rather than the extra point, which would have tied the game. This is when they try to score in the end zone again instead of kicking a field goal for two points. In what can be recognized by anyone as a miracle play, which justifies that holy named play before it, Kunal ran it in and made the conversion, winning 25-24._

 _Being now considered a major upset, it was the Seals first Super Bowl win. Across Terra Nova, celebration grips the planet, with all night celebrations in the capital of Scott. After Secretary of Civilian Recreations Thomas Jewell awarded Gregburg and Kunal the Vince Lombardi Trophy, Terran social media was full of references to the last-minute win by the Seals. An hour later, it was still as congested, but now about the famous ads that were played during the game. Outside the stadium, several people were injured when visiting Krogans got in a fight over the game. Fans were outraged, because apparently, fan-on-fan violence is normal for NIFL games, not NAFL games._

 _There are now rumors spreading that Admiral Valenzuela is currently wanted by Chinese authorities for assaulting the Packers' Quarterback after the game, with the allegation she lost over 20,000 Terran dollars on the game and was now out for revenge._

 _Authored by: Joplin Morris, Citadel News Network._

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/

Hey Everyone!

Thank you all for reading!  
With this chapter, it would have been  
the one year anniversary,  
since I first started posting this story.

Thank you to everyone who have read!  
With so many favs and follows,  
your encouragement keeps me going,  
and your feedback makes sure I do my best  
to write as good a story as possible.

So I hope you all enjoy!  
Please feel free to review and comment.  
I'm welcome all constructive comments!  
If you got any questions, always feel free to add it to review, or PM me.  
I be glad to answer!

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\


	29. 28: Before the Storm

**Chapter Twenty-Eight: Before the Storm**

* * *

 **Part 1:**

 **Brigadier Williams and Major Averil  
Amenthes Control Station, Mars  
April 22, 2147 05:00:00 UTC** _ **  
Thirty-One Years Ago…**_

"Beautiful, no?"

"Magnificent! Prothean tech?"

"Partly. But this… This is all on us."

Outside the view, three officers stood at the forward railing of the control room in a shipyard control station at the heart of the Martian Naval Fleet Yard. Outside that station, named Amenthes Control, were the hundred shipyard skeleton structures under its service. Nearly all of them were filled with ships, from the completion of those for the Third Fleet to dozens of civilian ships contracting the yards from the government. They ranged from cargo mail ships for UTPS to gas scoopers for EAE and BP.

Directly in front of them was a far larger construct. It was no ship, far larger, using multiple flagship size shipyards to house it. But it was for war, all the same.

The third man grunted and turned to them.

" _Terrifying_ would be the word I would use," replied Brigadier Williams.

His superior, General Bletchley, nodded, "True. This weapon, though simple, is powerful. Especially in its symbol."

"The Rapture Defense Satellite," said Major Averil, "A rated one giga-ton TNT. _Merde_ … The Touch of God."

Williams despairingly remarked, "More like the Punch of God. This thing can tear through a fleet of ships with a single salvo."

Bletchley added on, "Once the last one is finished, we'll have a complete network of defense over Earth. One day, this would defend every planet in the Federation. Might even render the Navy obsolete. No threat will stand a chance against them."

"These satellites go both ways," remarked Williams.

Averil replied, "Some threats of man are from within…"

"Or down below."

An alert appeared on his watch. The Army general, and Head of Military Intelligence, checked.

"How interesting. President Vetrol wants me to attend an intelligence meeting."

"You are the Head of Military Intelligence," remarked Averil.

Bletchley chuckled, "How unfortunate, no?" He signaled to his personal assistant standing near the entrance of the control room. "Major, Brigadier."

They both nodded to him, "General."

They watched as their leader walked away, departing back to Earth. Williams and Averil left also and headed to Averil's office down the hall. Inside, they sat down and turned back to the orbital satellite nearing completion. The room was sealed and secure, so they could speak more freely.

"You think these things can one shot those things?" asked Averil as he reached for a cup of coffee.

"We have no real intel on those damn… what'd Bletchley call them?"

"The 'Reapers', Ed."

"All our intel is from the ruins planet side, Ren. We have checked every planet with Prothean relics, and nothing supports what we found on Mars." Williams sighed and gestured his hand at the satellite, "This damn monstrosity could overkill those things, or have no effect on them. It could be built for an phantom enemy."

Averil sat back in his seat, checking his computer, "Then why do you worry?"

"I worry because we hold this weapon, this power. But we have no direct target for it." An alert appeared on his watch, prompting him to stand up, "But damn it! If history has taught us anything, it is that we will find a target."

"Where are you off to?"

"Bletchley just messaged me to head to the outer system. Wants me to check on some stolen military gear from the mothball yards near the Chiron Relay, or something…" He moved his hand in a twirling motion, not exactly caring about what he was supposed to do now.

"I'll see you on Earth for Worker's Day, then?" asked Averil.

He stopped at the door and turned to look back, "Wouldn't miss it for the galaxy. No matter what they say of Admiral Darya, she and those Russos sure can throw a party."

"Best of all, in Russia, the party finds you!" He held his mug up to him, "Happy Earth Day."

"Oh, don't be a hippie. We got rid of climate change… wait, did we?"

They had a quick laugh and Williams departed, heading for the shuttle bay. Averil sat at his desk. His friend Williams had a point. Since joining Section 14, he and many others were growing worried about the means their leader was going through to fight this enemy they had only heard about in some old alien computer. It became clear that if even Williams, Bletchley's second, was very uncomfortable with this it was a problem only set to escalate.

A message came over the comm.

"Major Averil. Please head to the control room."

Averil stood up, "On my way."

He quickly walked over to the room, just up the hallway. The commander of the station, Lieutenant Taylor, pointed at the main screen for his Marine security guards to see.

"Sir, we have an unidentified shuttle in the outskirts of the yard, five hundred kilometers."

"Have we hailed it?"

"We've hailed it twice already. No reply. We have no shuttle scheduled to head to us from that direction. It's coming at a low speed."

Averil groaned, worried, "Send shuttles out to investigate."

Taylor nodded, "I've already deployed two shuttles to intercept."

From their control, they watched as two Naval shuttles rushed to the outskirts to stop the intruder. Averil observed closely, running through a database on his watch.

"That shuttle…"

"Still attempting to identify. Jefferson?"

The station AI replied, "No image or electronic marker can be found, sir. Scans indicate a fragile hull structure, but heavier than expected mass."

"Life signs?" asked Taylor.

"Scans are inconclusive. I'll attempt to patch into the ship nearby, the _Homestead_. Her scanners should be installed."

"They look…" Averil ordered a zoom in on the image, "Old."

The two Naval shuttles began a final approach on the rogue shuttle. The rogue shuttle then signaled out enough for the station to notice it was transmitting, if for a brief moment, before it went silent. A few seconds later, several new shuttles appeared from space, warping near the first shuttle. Before the Naval ones could react, the rebel shuttles opened fire on the approaching Naval ones, destroying one immediately and forcing another to veer off and take shelter among the hull of an incomplete ship. The original one then turned its engines on to full power and made a quick beeline for the shipyards as more appeared around the outskirts of the yards.

"That shuttle is on a collision course! Projected target… Defense Satellite Z-089."

Taylor yelled out, "Open fire and take that shuttle out! Hail all friendly ships and order them to our position!"

"Defense fleet is converging on our position. All point defense cannons are opening fire."

"We can't lose that satellite! Stop them!" ordered Averil.

The shuttles rushed past the incoming plasma fire of the small station, still approaching its main target. The escort shuttles drew fire from it, firing at the defense cannons as it launched makeshift torpedoes at the station. They were slow though, and were quickly destroyed by the point defense cannons. Their minuscule explosion indicated no real mention of them, but they served their real job well and bought the main suicide shuttle time to approach.

As it got closer, only kilometers away from the massive satellite, two fighters flew by, strafing the path of shuttles. Two were destroyed as the rest veered off target. The shuttle's path diverged from its original target and made for the next best thing.

Averil turned to the AI's holoavatar, sitting ahead of them at his station.

"Can you hack it?"

"I have no point entry to work with! But whoever is controlling it, can't be human. Too quick, too nimble for even the _Sky Rebel_ herself…"

Averil gasped at the thought, "But that means… they have an AI working with them!"

Jefferson interrupted, "Target changed. The shuttle is now on course for the station! Section: shuttle bay!"

Taylor yelled out the order, "Evacuate the shuttle bay! Concentrate fire on that thing!"

Averil rushed to open comms at the shuttle bay. No other shuttle had yet to leave the station.

* * *

"An attack?"

Williams' pilot replied, pointing at the closed bay doors, "Yes, sir. All flights are canceled."

He leaned on the shuttle, located closest to the hatch into the station. "Damn it… who is attacking us? We're at the heart of the Sol Fleet!"

"No word yet–"

The bright red alert lights were suddenly accompanied by a loud open alert, "All personnel! Evacuate the shuttle bay immediately!"

Williams looked up at a nearby speaker, "Wait, Averil–"

The shuttle outside collided with the bay doors, a massive explosion bashed through into the bay and vaporized everything and everyone near it in a fraction of a second. Before Williams could even look back, the massive hole where the door and part of the station was allowed a massive and sudden decompression of the atmosphere inside. In that full second since the shuttle hit, the air was removed in one quick exhale, the survivors were pulled along just a bit before the air and all of the fires and explosions from the impact, were gone.

The gravity quickly failed. Williams and a few others found themselves floating a bit in the void exposed bay. He himself was suffering a concussion from the blast, his blood was quickly losing oxygen, and his lungs burned with intense pain. With only a few seconds to act, he pushed off his shuttle and made a painfully slow flight to a nearby console that was still working. On it was an override to seal the bay by contracting the shields to where the hull was. He quickly activated his watch and hoped it would do the rest to execute the command. He reached his hand out and pointed at the shuttle, hoping momentum would finish the job.

A few seconds went by, a slow float towards the console as others were dying in the exposed void. Williams' momentum made him spin, and he ended up getting a glimpse of the outside. There, in the dead silent, dozens of shuttles were flying about, either rebel shuttles firing at the station or Naval shuttles firing at the rebel shuttles. As he got closer, the pain from his lungs and his head wound quickly took its toll, and he drifted into unconsciousness. Right before he did, he watched as a Naval frigate came from above, its large saucer section blocked the view of the rest of the yard and Mars as it opened fire and immediately destroyed the remaining rebel shuttles. Naval fighters entered as well to clean out and secure the space.

His blue finger made contact with the console, his watch interfacing with the console for the correct instructions being sent through. Outside, the shields contracted and formed up to where the hull and bay doors where. Gravity and life support were soon restored, everyone dropped to the ground. But too much time had gone by and everyone lay there on the ground. Medical crews rushed inside, still equipped with breathers. Averil and Taylor rushed in as well, looking for the General.

His lifeless body lay on the ground, his arm stretched out and pointing at the console. Averil rushed to him as medical personnel hurried to aid him.

A doctor took out a scanner.

"His lungs have collapsed. He must not have had time to exhale before the attack."

"We can't lose the General!"

"Nurse, oxy-implanter!"

He got the hypospray and jammed it into Williams' neck. The oxygen rich serum would ensure brain activity. But instead, it also revived Williams, whose first instinct was to try to breathe with his damage lungs. The immense pain made him go into shock; he began to have wild spasms. The med crew rushed to restrain him as a free stretcher came over.

They all lifted him up and restrained him as they rushed for the med bay. Averil stood by his side as Williams looked up at the Major. He took off his cap and placed it on his chest as he looked down at his friend.

"Ed? Ed! Stay with us, Ed. We'll patch you right up!"

"I need another oxy-implanter, stat!"

"We're gonna get you a new set lungs, Ed. Real nice ones. Just stay with us!"

* * *

 **Part 2:**

 **General Williams and Head Scout Williams  
Amaterasu  
April 22, 2168 07:00:00 UTC** _ **  
Present day –**_ **Nine Months into the Interbellum**

"Grandpa?"

Williams woke from his daze, lifting his head from his hands as he leaned against the table. He opened his eyes and saw his granddaughter sitting on the other side of the small table. He was in the guest room of his son's house on Amaterasu. In front of both of them was a chessboard, the game in its infancy.

"Oh, uh… What?"

The young, newly ten-year-old sighed, "Did you fall asleep in the middle of our game again?"

Williams closed his eyes and smiled, chuckling.

"Sorry, Ash. My mind wandered off. Age does that to you."

She sat up in her seat, "Well, now that you're back among the living," she pointed at the board, "It's your turn."

"But of course, dear. Now then…"

He took one of his pawns and advanced it forward. Ashley took her queen through the gap in her pawn line and straight into the middle of the board, her strongest piece unleashed quickly into the battle. For the next few minutes, each of them took turns advancing their wooden troops, trading attacks against each other as the attrition-based game wore on. Ashley moved fast, quickly attacking with each of her turns with a blitz. Williams took his time. It wasn't timed after all, giving him the luxury to think his plan through. It didn't take long though for Ashley's offensive to seemingly overwhelm her grandfather's army. Her pieces were focused around her king. His were scattered about.

She 'castled' her king and left rook. Her king was now behind a few pawns, protected from the front, and a rook to its right. She had at least one of each main chess piece out on the board. Williams' own line was diminished. But he could see a few moves ahead.

She smiled, "Victory is assured."

Williams advanced one of his remaining pawns on the other end of the board, "Don't be quick to claim the day as won, less you snatch victory from the jaws of defeat."

She sat back and slouched a bit in her seat, wrinkling her scout's uniform as she thought, "Grandpa, I have a question."

"Yes, Ashley?"

"Does a game like this prepare a general like you for battle?"

Williams sat back in his seat and thought over the question his granddaughter had asked him. He crossed his arms and rubbed his chin, then advanced a pawn on his far left forward.

"In a way... Chess is a game of endurance."

She advanced her bishop diagonally upwards to her far left, in sight of his queen.

"How? Besides the waiting, I mean."

"Well, besides that, this is an attrition-based game. Ideally, you don't want a war to be like a game of chess." He gestured to all the pieces. "But chess teaches you something. Each piece is unique in its own way. A master of chess can see a whole game play through in a single moment, how each pawn will win him the game. How each one can be used to counter his, or her, enemy's own."

"How?"

Williams looked at the board, looking for a piece to start his lesson. He grabbed a knight and advanced it from its starting point. It also blocked a path for her queen.

"Knights are a unique piece. They are flexible, far reaching, and can skip by enemies to get to the heart of things."

Ashley asked, "But they can't attack directly like a queen or a rook. And if you move them all wrong, they just get eaten up by another chess piece."

Williams looked at it, using his experience to come up with a comparison he was far more familiar with, "You've got to think about it, Ash. These 'knights in shining armor' are like your covert agents. Move one too often and your opponent can see what you're doing. But position them correctly, with time and thought, and they can strike when your enemy least expects it."

"But I can see you move them now!"

She sat up and reached over, and advanced her bishop forward along the black diagonal tiles, taking his knight. Ashley sat back down, smiling with certainty. Williams chuckled quietly to himself over his granddaughter's confidence.

"You saw me there."

"Thought you could slip a secret agent through while you lecture me. Smart. But you know me better. Besides, you aren't the spymaster sort of person."

He shook his head, "I expect nothing less from you." He advanced one bishop on the opposite color to the edge of the board. Ashley looked at it for a moment, but that changed when he moved his hand to his other, with sights on her queen now, "And me, a spymaster? No, I'm just some Army grunt. Ah! Here, Bishop, er… bishops. An interesting pawn."

"It feels random when they become useful. Almost like a trap that you should see ten steps ahead than a frontline pawn. Diagonal movement is just weird. I got lucky there to be honest."

"Well. Bishops, I would say are not regular frontline troops. They are like… the Special Forces. Our Berets and N7s. Some bishops can be moved to quickly be in attack formation, like we did in the Revival. Others need to be moved into position. I know that, though it may seem they can't go head to head, they can attack from angles neither you nor your opponent can see. Battles are fought outside of battlefields. Either by elite soldiers or civilians with unique capabilities."

"I see…" Ashley moved her queen out of the way, positioning it a few blocks closer to her. She looked at another piece, "And rooks? I like to think of them as tanks! Straight into the action, bashing enemy troops. Back and forth, side to side!"

Williams chuckled, moving a pawn from earlier forward, "You sound like my officer staff! But rooks? I like to think they reflect the mentality of people, rather than a unit on the field."

"I don't follow, Grandpa."

"Think about it. You see forward, you see backwards. Left and right. You can attack straight on. But the difference between a soldier on the front and elite troops is that these rooks can see the opportunity from the unspoken corners of the battlefield."

She advanced her last knight, "How?"

"Like this." Though his only rook was in position to take one of her knights, he moved his first bishop and moved it across the board, taking her other knight. Quickly noticing, she made a quick and rash move, advancing her other one away from Williams' rook. Williams, focused, moved his other bishop and attacked, now in its line of capture. Ashley panicked at the suddenly loss of both her knights in seconds, and reacted as such, moving her queen forward and taking a pawn, just one tile short of a diagonal checking his king. Williams countered, quick and with thought, and moved his queen. In a shocking move, he moved it right behind Ashley's own queen.

"What did you do?" she whispered, looking at the board. She could see the trap; take his queen, and a simple pawn would take hers.

"I was hard pressed on my right. My center was yielding. Board layout made it impossible to maneuver. Situation excellent! I attacked."

"Wow… Foch. General Foch!" She realized she was in no position to simply take his queen with hers. That same bishop he used was covering it. She moved her queen away, retreating diagonally back to her side. Safe, but no longer in any meaningful position. "So, what else does the chess master have in store?"

"Oh, now I'm a chess master?" Williams asked.

She giggled, "Just not over Dad."

He rolled his eyes, but smiled, "You have a point."

"So, the king and queen. What about them?"

Williams sat back. He looked at his watch, the morning growing old, and his time here as well. But for Ashley, he'd finish the lesson.

"The king, naturally, is the goal. Achieve the goal, and you win."

"That seems obvious," she remarked.

"But just remember, whether a small skirmish, an all-out battle, or an entire war, there is always a goal. Just be mindful…" He moved his queen forward, appearing to be readying some breakthrough of sorts for her king. "That unlike chess, what you think is the king, is but a pawn."

"And the queen?" She moved another pawn forward. Her king and rook at the back line still hiding behind a few pawns.

"A powerful piece. But wars can be won without one, and can be lost with one. It all comes down to who controls it well."

He grabbed his other bishop all the way on her side and moved back, leaving it open. It landed right in sight of her queen, no piece by her grandfather in position to cover that spot. She moved her queen and took his bishop. Williams moved to take her most forward pawn; Ashley countered and retreated her queen back in striking position of his. Williams moved his other bishop, taking position near her queen, while also being deep into her side. Quick to judge the situation, she took his queen, while moving back into a safe position.

"And I know how to control mine!"

He smiled, "You do. But you forgot the first thing I told you."

"What?"

"That every piece is key to victory. And when you realize that…"

He took his bishop and advanced, striking at the castled rook. It startled her, even though she wasn't in check. She moved her king and took his last bishop. He advanced his forward pawn, all the way on the other side, and reached the last row; it was free of the knight that his fallen bishop had taken out earlier.

"Your finest soldiers, your experts on and off the field. This is where they all start as but simple pawns." He switched his pawn out, reached over to the side, and brought his queen out. At that very moment, her king was trapped behind its very own defensive line. "Check… and mate."

"Wow… you beat me, Grandpa."

"Looks like I still got it," He chuckled.

"I can't believe I didn't notice you move that pawn."

Williams sat back in his seat to rest, "Always wise to pay attention to every piece. The elites may battle in front of the world, but the war is won by those forgotten, unsung heroes."

"And a chess master who can set everyone up. Who can see the victory before the game even starts."

"Maybe… one more lesson."

She turned to him, "What's that, Grandpa?"

"A chess master starts off as a pawn. And sometimes…" he sat up and leaned over the table, whispering to her, "They still are."

"I never knew this game was so philosophical."

He stood up and walked back to his bed to get his luggage and formal coat, "Oh, you can make anything some deep and meaningful, Ashley. It's all about the words."

She rolled her eyes, "Wow, there goes the lesson…"

Williams laughed, "Better me teaching it than life, huh?"

* * *

Ashley walked out of his room, to the first floor of their house, a decent sized ranch across the wide farmlands of Amaterasu. She stood in position, by the side of the door, straightening out her uniform as the head scout of her unit and fluffing her green beret. She pulled out her whistle and blew on it, calling out across the household. With that loud high pitch sound resonating across the house, a flurry of commotion spread.

From the kitchen, her sisters Abby and Lynn rushed from their breakfast and stood by their eldest sister's side. They were also dressed in their scout uniforms, a different number and emblem on their patches than the troop scout Ashley was in. They all lined up in front of Williams' door to properly see their grandfather out. The youngest, Sarah, too young and still dressed in her pajamas, then walked out from the kitchen to follow her sisters and join them, the young three-year-old stumbling. Their mother walked out and picked her up, walking towards the bottom of the staircase. She looked up the stairs, wondering where her husband was.

From the kitchen's television, the news was playing.

" _As we can see here, President Bowman is now placing the wreath at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier here in New Jerusalem as we commemorate the 21_ _st_ _Anniversary of the Amenthes Bombing, 18_ _th_ _Anniversary of Uplifting Day and of the end of the Great Revival."_

General Williams opened the door of his room, in full formal blue and green Army uniform. It was the newest version being issued; an older Earth style coat with a green tie and a grey belt around his waist, a B7 buckle in the center of it. He had a simple suitcase in his hand, his cap in the other. As he took a step out, Ashley smiled.

"Attention!"

The three of them stood straight and saluted their grandfather. Humored by his granddaughters, he took a step forward, turned to face them, then placed his luggage down and saluted the scouts back.

"General Williams," said Ashley with all the seriousness the ten-year-old could muster.

"Head Scout Williams."

He turned back forward and reached down for his luggage. He looked up, noticing his son in his Naval uniform in line with his daughters, his duffle bag next to him. He gave a big grin as he saluted his father with his daughters.

"General Williams!"

Williams rolled eyes and smirked, but turned to salute him back.

"Chief Williams."

He gestured for him to follow as he walked towards his wife and Sarah. Holding young Sarah in her arms, she gently rocked her. The older girls walked over as well, surrounding them.

"Say 'bye' to the General, Sarah."

She turned and waved to Williams, "Bye _Genewal_ Grampa."

"Goodbye, Sarah," He turned to their mother, "My, my, Kimberly. How do you do it? Raising all of them?"

She giggled, "It reminds me of my old squad," she turned to her daughters and husband, "But I wouldn't give up this position up for the world."

Williams turned to his son, "You're a lucky man, Robert. To have the Lieutenant here as your CO and wife."

He chuckled, "I sure am. But the Marine officer here could never resist my charm."

"Naval charm? Ha, I've got to tell that to Admiral Paris. He'll get a laugh for sure."

They continued to the door and onto the newly finished porch. Outside was the green grassland of the distant colony world. The sky had a blue glow, with a tint of purple from the gases inside the otherwise garden world atmosphere. As they walked out, a shuttle descended from the sky towards their front lawn.

"You got us a shuttle, Robert?"

"Perks of being a chief."

As they waited for it to land, Williams turned around and looked to Ashley.

"I hope you had a great birthday, Ash."

She nodded, "I did! Thanks for staying an extra week with us."

"Ten years old. How quickly you have grown. Robert, when is she having her First Communion?"

"Sometime during my next leave, after Resiliency Day," he replied.

"You're all growing up. My, how the time has gone." The shuttle blasted off its landing thrusters and settled on the empty road in front of their house, "It's great being with you, with all of you." He took a deep breath and sighed, "But the nation calls us back."

Robert looked back at the shuttle as its doors opened, then he looked up at the sky. Compelled, he said a line from one of his favorite poems. " _The arching sky is calling…"_

" _Spacemen back to their trade_ ," finished Williams. He was the one who taught him the poem.

Ashley thought for a moment about the line. In a flash, she remembered what poem it came from. " _Out ride the sons of Terra, far drives the thundering jet. Up leaps a race of Earthmen, out, far, and onward yet_."

They both turned back to the girl, surprised she knew the poem. She crossed her arms and smiled at them. But someone else finished it up.

" _We pray for one last landing, on the globe that gave us birth. Let us rest out eyes on the fleecy skies, and the cool, green hills of Earth._ "

"Kim, I didn't know you read Heinlein," said Robert.

She gave a playful groan, "You recite that poem all the time."

Sarah looked to at her mother, "Mommy, what's a 'Earth'?"

She chuckled, "That's our home world, Sarah."

"Okey… what a home world?"

Robert chuckled, "We'll leave you to it, then."

They climbed onto the shuttle, Williams signaling them to start the engines. Holding onto the railing, they waved goodbye.

"You girls be safe!"

The three older girls yelled up at them as they took off, "Bye, Dad! Bye, Grandpa!"

The hatch closed and the shuttle took off, quickly accelerating up into the sky.

As the small ranch disappeared into the landscape, he closed his eyes, trying to ingrain their final moment into his mind as he whispered to himself. "I pray for one last landing. For them all, I pray for one last landing…"

* * *

 **Part 3:**

 **Spectre Arterius and Spectre Kryik  
Turian Embassy  
A few hours before…  
April 21, 2168 17:00:00 UTC**

Saren dodged a biotic wave, hitting the ground and rolling back up as he rushed from cover to cover. In front of him, three Asari commandoes were gunning for the Spectre, armed with powerful Disciple shotguns and their galaxy renowned biotics. Around them were the burnt-out ruins of a tall building, a large hole through the ceiling all the way to the roof. Saren quickly rested up and reloaded heat syncs into his Carnifex pistol. With his own choice of weaponry, he reluctantly chose a 'Terran' invocation, disposable quick exchange heat syncs; he was simply able to put down more rounds using it. His excuse when people asked, _it was a Quarian innovation, not a human one_.

He broke from cover and kept moving, firing at one commando as they tried to target him. One made a biotic charge at him, but Saren was able to see it and turned to face her. He took out his knife and held it out, the split-second reaction allowed him to counter the commando. She ended up phasing back in and was impaled by the knife. Saren quickly grabbed hold of the suddenly appearing Asari and shoved her to the ground, pinning her.

The two others opened fire, biotically charged rounds going through the room. Saren stayed low. Moving to a fallen concrete pillar, he fired his pistol, the rounds bouncing off of the biotic's shields. As one reloaded, the other covered her and threw out several shockwaves. Back and forth, he kept moving and looking for a means to stop them. The Turian Spectre moved with the speed and agility of a Salarian, avoiding shotgun and biotic blasts. He stayed focused and returned fire with the age-old discipline of a Turian.

The first one reloaded and charged forward, stopping in front of him. She raised her shotgun and fired. His shields held off the blast, but knocked him back and onto the floor. As he fell on his back and slid, the Asari rushed at him, readying a nova blast. Seeing her approach, he quickly scrambled for his omni-tool.

As she jumped up for the blow, Saren raised his hand and unleashed a powerful overload at close range. The high voltage quickly struck her combined biotic/kinetic barrier; the feedback destroyed her shields and electrocuted her. For a brief moment, she stayed there in the air; a mass effect field surrounding her and Saren unleashed all he had. She fell back on her feet, stumbling about in a daze. Saren raised his pistol and fired, a quick clean shot through her temple.

He got back up, looking to where the last commando was. She was gone; the ruins of the building were all there was. He quickly looked around, noticing only the eerie silence. He walked out, weapon in hand, to the middle of the room, looking up at the sky above. A cold breeze came through the ruins, the sound of a soft howl bouncing off the ruble and towards him at the bottom.

Saren then heard a swish, a quick parting of the air behind him. He turned, the final commando charged at him from the floor above and right at him. She quickly kicked him to the ground; she landed in fighting stance, an Asari biotic sword in hand, while Saren slid across the room.

He got up and fired, but the Asari's shields brushed it off. As she got close, he raised his arm to unleash another overload, but the Asari swung her sword and slashed his prosthetic arm. The overload feedback of the nerve stimulus in his arm sent out a sharp pain. His momentary distraction gave the commando time to give a powerful biotic kick. He was back on the ground again, arm broken and body aching.

He looked up and saw her walk over him. She raised her sword ready for the final killing blow.

"Damn it, Saren!"

She was suddenly blasted a few meters away from Saren, the pellets of a shotgun blast following behind as it left a heated ionized air trail. Saren quickly sat up, making sure she was down for the count. He turned back, a hand extended out to him.

"Well, your timing couldn't be better."

Nihlus pulled him up and yelled at him, "No shit, Saren. Look at you!"

Saren looked at his broken arm.

"This?" He gave a short chuckle, "It's a machine. I can always swap it for another in the med bay."

"This isn't funny, Saren." Nihlus looked up, "Computer, end program!"

The ruins immediately disappeared, showing an empty bay with electronic mass effect emitters all along the wall. The training room's main door hatch opened up, Nihlus gestured for him to leave. They walked out and into the Spectre branch of the Turian Embassy.

Saren sighed at his friend's concern, "What are you complaining about now, Nihlus?"

"This! Look at you, all bruised up."

"It's called training, Nihlus."

He looked at him, bewildered, "Training? Since when did battling three commandoes with the safety off count as training? Damn it, I'm almost tempted to file the forms to have this room replaced with Terran holo-emitters."

"Our technology is perfectly fine!" exclaimed Saren. In that moment, his arm glitched out again, another shock of pain pounded through his body. His real arm wasn't even there anymore, but it felt as though it was, deep slash and all. He simply ripped the mechanical arm out from its socket. "Not as though we have the funding for it anyway."

"You still haven't even completed the training for that thing."

"I don't need to." After a moment, he sighed. He waved his arm at him, bringing his point home.

Nihlus shook his head, "Spirits damn it, Saren..."

They arrived at Saren's office, sitting down as he messaged the medical ward in the Embassy for a replacement arm to be flash forged. Saren looked to Nihlus, who seemed awfully more serious than usual.

"You know, this normally isn't you."

"Because this is important. Look at this."

Nihlus took out an OCD and placed it on his desk. He slid it over to him. Saren took it and inserted it into the base of his console, checking what was in it. It only took a quick skim to see what it was.

"What in the spirits is this?!"

Nihlus sat back in his seat, "There has been worry about the growing division within the Hierarchy when it comes to its new militarization policies."

Saren turned to him, "What division? This is being led by Admiral Fedorian with backing from the Primarch!"

"But intel suggests that Fedorian's real benefactor, Primarch Arterius, is committing other actions behind the scenes. Its okay when two sides are building up and everyone knows how, but if he's getting an edge not even the Council is aware of, it raises concerns."

"My brother is doing no such thing! This is some damn witch hunt by Councilor Goyle to undermine our national defense!"

Nihlus pointed at the screen, "Read that carefully, Saren. Sparatus would never vote in favor of such an action. And Ani… Councilor Goyle would not be so careless and request such a mission, one that could easily leak out and bite them."

Saren turned to the authorization section. It read that the mission was launched by Councilor Nerval, with a second vote by Councilor Tevos. With Spectre missions, a full majority vote of the Council was not needed to authorize one, just a definitive majority vote to stop one. If two councilors, one Turian leaning and one Terran leaning, were willing to approve this, it didn't look good at all.

"Why are you showing me this?"

Nihlus sat up and leaned towards his desk, "Because I felt you deserved to know. I've been assigned to begin operations. And I wanted to see how you would react–"

"Test my loyalty, you mean."

"Well?"

Saren sat there, a bit shaken. But he made up his mind quickly, knowing what the ultimate cause was for.

"I fight for the ideals of the Council. As long as its values are upheld, it doesn't matter who on the Council I serve."

Nihlus nodded, reassured, though not by much, by Saren's response, "Good." He stood up, "I had to know. I'll leave you then…"

"Wait, Nihlus!"

"Saren?"

"Let me take this assignment."

"What!"

Saren slammed his right, and only, fist on the desk, "Damn it, he's my brother! If he's doing something, planning something… I have to be the one who knows first."

Nihlus walked back, "Your loyalty, I trust. Don't think I don't. But I've seen conflicts of interest go badly. Spectres aren't immune." He sighed, then gave a short chuckle, "Spirits, it seems to be the downfall of one too many."

"Damn what happens to me! But if he really is doing something… if I have to make the choice…"

Nihlus looked at him, "Well?"

An alert rang from the medical dispenser at the side of his office. Saren paused and walked over. His new robotic arm has been completed and programmed, and was delivered via a built-in tube system to a sterile chamber. Saren took it out, and turned back to Nihlus. He reattached his arm and walked up to Nihlus, face to face.

"I'll make the right choice. You know me better that anyone else. You know I would…"

Nihlus looked back at him, and then responded.

"Okay then. It's yours."

"Thank you, Nihlus."

Nihlus shrugged, "Don't mention it… really. The OCD shall have all the information I gathered to take my next step. Use it wisely."

He left, leaving Saren alone as he walked back and sat at his desk. He started from the beginning, reading his next, self-imposed assignment.

As Nihlus himself walked out into the lobby of the main Embassy, Ambassador Victus quickly took his side and swept him up for herself.

* * *

 **Part 4:**

 **Ambassador Victus and Ambassador Ghirn  
Terran Embassy  
April 21, 2168 18:00:00 UTC**

Riding in the elevator shuttle, the Spectre and the Ambassador waited as they made their way around the Presidium ring towards the Terran Embassy.

"Ambassador Victus, explain to me why you wanted me to escort you to the Terrans?"

She kept staring out of the window, the view of the magnificent Presidium in all its luxury, "I have… business to discuss with Ambassador Ghirn, Agent Kryik. And you were there just as I left."

"How lucky for me. Though the Terran Embassy is perfectly safe. By the humans' standard anyway."

"Exactly, so it's overtly or not at all."

"Still, you are the ambassador to the Asari. If I may ask, you could have also asked Ambassador–"

Victus quickly replied, her tone clear he should stop, "I may not be a soldier or a spy. But I know when I should let someone else deal with a matter, or when I should do it myself."

"Of course, Ambassador, apologies."

"Just assure me you know that lesson just as well."

Nihlus thought about what he just did, "I hope so."

They arrived at the Terran Embassy. Their elevator had special clearance, allowing them to enter directly at the main lobby. The whole facility was quite large, taking up every millimeter of the Presidium it was allocated from the grounds overlooking the lake, to the very top, touching the sky. Being the Embassy for three separate races, it was much larger than any of the others. It also housed the Terran Military Attaché and a small platoon of soldiers for protection.

The small base itself was written off as compensation for the Terrans not having a Spectre. It worked only for the Terrans, since the government had no intention on handing over valuable agents to an organization they couldn't control. It didn't help that despite technically agreeing to it when joining the Council, the unofficial policy for both Terran law enforcement and intelligence agencies was to ignore the Spectre's above-the-law status.

They were given a quick clearance, and they proceeded into the hallway. Walking through, many people, including those of races not human, Batarian, or Quarian, but still Terran, were moving about with work and assignments. Full Marine security was present, but they had a surprisingly small effect on the atmosphere. The Turians may be used to the sight, but the Terrans had trained their soldiers to have only a positive impact on civilian areas.

Outside, an N7 Marine in casual wear and an off-duty C-Sec officer were outside the doors of the Quarian ambassador's office.

"Really now? That's an interesting theory you have."

"I appreciate the simple acknowledgement. Even at home, it isn't the most popular idea. We're not as open to the idea of artificial intelligence as we think we are."

"You seem well versed in the subject for a soldier."

"Marine, Detective."

"Ah, you are one of them, I see. I was a sailor in my younger days…"

He chuckled, "I'm so sorry."

Approaching them, the officer recognized the two Turians and turned to greet them.

"Ambassador Victus. Spectre Kryik. Here to see Ambassador Ghirn?"

Victus nodded, "I am."

"I'm just here as her escort, Detective Vakarian," answered Nihlus.

The Marine replied, finding the need for a Spectre guard to the Terran embassy a bit amusing. "You can never be too safe. But rest assured, I make sure the Embassy is the safest place on the Citadel."

The officer turned back to him, "Oh yes. Ambassador, Spectre, this is Major Ryder. Terran Military Attaché to the Citadel."

Victus nodded to him, "A pleasure to meet you, Major. Is the ambassador free?"

"She is in a meeting with Councilor Goyle. They should be already alerted," He turned to the Spectre, "Spectre… Kryik, correct? I've heard rumors of your exploits in the Terminus. Something to be impressed about."

He chuckled and brushed it off, "The stories in the news are always exaggerated."

Vakarian commented, "So is their power." He made clear his immediate disdain for the organization. "In matters of galactic security, there should be rules."

Ryder chuckled and nudged him, "Come now, Castis. My race wouldn't be here if we went strictly by the rules."

Nihlus smiled a bit, "Now that's what a Spectre would say."

Vakarian responded, "Don't let him sway you, Alec."

"Me? A Spectre? No… I have too many other obligations. Besides, the title, 'Spectre Ryder'. It just doesn't roll off the tongue well."

* * *

"Doctors?"

"Yes. I was told you might know someone. From your Pilgrimage days."

Miri thought about it. She didn't make many friends, but she knew of someone who had, "Me, no. But Faunz had a way of making friends. I could use that to contact some Asari doctors. Skilled, but not traditional."

"We need skilled and non-traditional!" said Goyle as she sat on Miri's desk, looking at her, "Traditional has failed, ours and theirs. We need new ideas."

Miri turned her eyes to her screen and the medical file Goyle gave her, "Her condition doesn't seem to be advanced."

"It's a slow killer. But we know for sure it will kill. We haven't found a cure in all this time, in spite of the massive progress we have made in the medical field. We thought we could reverse engineer the nanites we used to help your people, but massatanium… eezo… is a tricky thing."

"I'll check with every contact I have. For what friends we do have in the galaxy, those are friends we can count on the most."

"Thank you, Ghirn." She got off Miri's desk and walked around, "Doctor Harlow is an important figure in Human Kinetics. When we poisoned Earth following the Revival and the destruction of the Rapture Defense Satellite grid, her research into kinetic implants and the reaction of human anatomy to refined eezo was a godsend. She saved billions of lives; a fact rarely mentioned in the history books. And she ushered in the second, and true, generation of human kinetics. Now her very work is killing her."

"Doctor Harlow…" Miri looked at her screen again, "You mean Ryder?"

"Pardon me. I was familiar with her before she was married. It's been a while… Still, try your best on this. Put the weight of my name, and Terra's, on this if need be. She's not the only person I'm doing this for."

She walked over to the door. It opened and she was greeted by Ambassador Victus, waiting to enter.

"Ambassador Victus. Apologies for the wait."

"It is of no inconvenience, Councilor Goyle."

She turned to Nihlus, a bit more relaxed. She even had a smile, "Agent Kryik. I hope you're doing well."

He nodded, but secretly shivered with nervousness. Most of his interactions with her had been in private. "I am. I wish the same to you, Anita, I mean… Councilor."

She giggled, "Of course, Nihlus…"

She left, Ryder following close behind. Vakarian left as well towards the entrance lobby, his own reason for being there finished. Nihlus stood outside, watched by several Marines from several corners of the hallway. Victus walked inside. Miri stood up and walked around her desk, leaning back and looking to her as she approached. She was still in her suit, of Terran colors. The Turian stared at her helmetless head, her hood repurposed as a scarf of sorts. Her hair, like the humans but white, stopped down at her shoulders, just enough to cover it. But her face, in spite of being worn by age and experience, still had that striking image of when she saw it all those years ago.

"Ambassador Ghirn."

Miri crossed her hands and replied, stoically, "Ambassador Victus."

The doors finally closed. The two looked at each other for a moment, seemingly staring each other down.

Then Victus opened her arms wide open. Miri walked over and embraced her, a warm hug followed by a good long look at a long-lost friend.

"Claudie!" she said, calling her by her nickname from so long ago.

"Miri! It's been too long."

Miri gestured for her to sit down as she walked back to her desk.

"Keelah, how long has it been?" Miri sat down, leaning over her desk.

Victus chuckled, "Spirits… sixty years? It really has been too long."

"You know, it wouldn't have been if you had visited sooner."

"The year has been turbulent," she said, groaning as she thought about it, "But here we are, now." The Turian smiled to her, "And either way, so much has changed, no?"

Miri nodded, "Yes it has. When I heard a few years ago, I couldn't believe it."

"An ambassador on the Citadel…" she sighed, "I didn't think a person like me would ever come back. Just being back here, I admit it wasn't easy at first… Too many memories."

Miri sat back, "I hear you, Claudie. When I took my first step back on the Citadel. It seemed… surreal."

Victus nodded and leaned forward in her seat, laughing now at the thought to distract herself, "Still, look at you." She smiled and pointed at her, "The Head Ambassador for the Quarian Race. You're making history!" She chuckled at the thought, "Oh, and the irony, the decedent of the last ambassador brought her people back to the galactic spotlight."

"Well, I can thank the humans for that. It's good to have friends… and it's good to be able to see what few old ones we have."

"Hell, come on now, Miri." She stood up and leaned over her desk, her right hand out and up, her elbow bent and down. Miri stood up from her seat and grabbed her hand as well in solidarity, "It's as you said, when we left the Citadel all those years ago."

"What was that?"

"Us _rats_ have to stick together."

They shook hands and let go. Miri giggled, "I must say, it must be great to no longer be in a _duct_."

"And you, outside of your _suit_. Spirits, no wonder the humans love your kind. Hair like that, and a face as beautiful as an Asari."

She blushed, "Oh come now Claudie. How about you? You must have found a good man–" Miri stopped midsentence, remembering what happened, "I mean…"

"Wait, don't go backtracking on my behalf, Miri." They both sat back down. Victus sighed, looking down as she tapped her talons together, "I wanted to talk to you about that."

"About what?"

"Miri…" She looked up at her. Her expression was far more serious, her mandibles closed, "Marcus Junius."

"Junius?"

"Damn it, Miri!" She stood up, rushed her desk, and slammed both her talons on the table, "I know! This isn't some secret. Back home, no one would believe the rumors. They dismiss it, or they are in fear of it. But I want to know for sure. I want to hear it from you!"

"Claudia… Ambassador…"

"No, please… Miri. I have to know!" She dropped to her knees, holding on to the table with her fist. Miri was startled at what she was seeing, and more so by what she saw next, a truly rare sight if there ever was one. She saw her, her friend and a Turian, cry.

"Junius…"

"Yes?"

"Damn it, Claudia," She leaned over her desk and picked her back up, "You are no longer a little girl. You are one of the highest-ranking officials in the Hierarchy! You don't need Junius."

She leaned on her desk and looked up at Miri, her mandibles open as she smiled, "I know. I got this far without him… Just tell me, please."

Miri nodded, "Junius… Admiral Junius has been positioned in the First Fleet."

Victus sat back down, "An admiral… Of course, he's a damn, barefaced admiral! All he ever cared about was his career." She leaned on her knees, thinking about the larger implications. "Your First Fleet… That's in the dead center of Council Space."

"Like his old job. If I remember correctly…" Miri couldn't help but show discontent for the man. Victus understood that. "He's Wood's executive officer."

"Those humans threw him that big a bone?" She became angry. "He was always like a damn varren. Does that man know what he is doing!?"

"He does," Miri leaned forward, "He's planning on going home."

"And he'll burn the galaxy to do so. That bastard! That's all he cared about. With Cassiud and revenge… Why I ever…"

While Miri didn't blame her for being angry with him, she was confused as to why she was asking her of all people for information. Victus could get all the intel she wanted on him; Miri was limited in her sources, even with the Terrans' help, "Claudie, why are you asking?"

"That's… That's a state secret," she made up on the spot," Miri, I already asked more that I should have from you. I need to head back."

Miri stood up, "So be it than. I hope you found out what you wanted."

"Yes… Thank you."

She walked to the exit. Victus waited there, staring at the door. She was upset, hearing the news, and about everything else. But she also felt bad for visiting one of the oldest friends she had just to find that out. She owed many of the good things in her life to Miri and her friends getting her and her brother off of the Citadel all those years ago.

"Uh, Miri?"

"Yes, Claudie?"

She turned around, "I heard what happened on Triginta Petra."

"Have you?" Miri became a bit tense at hearing the name. It was a standing rule in the Terran Embassy to never mention that, even when the Turians file official grievance over it.

From a Turian, Miri expected a different answer. Victus, however, had something else to say, "I'm sorry about what happened."

"Really?"

"To you, about what happened to you and Zaren… About what happened to your son."

Miri was lost for a moment, surprised even, by one of the few people she was close to.

"Thank you Claudie."

"Your son. You must have loved him. Cared so much for him."

"I miss him. I tried to do so much for him. But I failed." Miri sat down, "Neither Zaren or I have recovered from it. I will never forget. As for Zaren, Dorin's last moment still haunts him. I hope for the day I can… I can understand that."

Victus simply nodded, intrigued by her words, "I see. Thank you for telling me, Miri. Thank you for everything."

"Of course, Claudie."

"Give my regards to Zaren."

"I will."

Victus looked up at and at her, "You, you cared so much for your son, Dorin, huh?"

"We still do." Miri took a deep breath, "Keelah, it seems to define us now."

"I care for my own. Adrien is my whole world, and to think he looks up to Junius as a hero…"

"Our heroes are never what we believe them to be. We all learn that the hard way."

"I know…" Victus sighed, suddenly losing her breath as she thought about what could happen next. "I hope so much for this peace to stay, to be real."

"I can't image what it would be like if it wasn't. If we lost it all."

"I can, Miri. Spirits, the pain… I hope Junius has extended his own sympathies. That bastard is partly to blame…"

"He… has."

She grunted, still amazed by the man, "I see. Well, if we do find ourselves, our nations, as enemies to one another. If Junius gets what he wants… Please give your sympathies, as much to him as to me."

Miri was confused, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, if it comes down to it, we both will have lost a son…"

She opened the doors and left, Nihlus following closely behind. Miri sat in her seat, contemplating what she had said. She turned her head, looking at the image of Dorin in his bubble. She worried for her. No one should ever feel as she did, all those years ago; and as she did today.

Before she left, Miri called for her. Someone else needed help, and Victus could help as well.

* * *

 **Part 5:**

 **Primarch Desolas Arterius  
Citadel Wards  
April 22, 2168 06:00:00 UTC**

Down below in the depths of the wards of the Citadel, the dark shadows of the civilized galaxy still lurked about. The arrival of the Terrans had only filled in the gap of the lawlessness that had existed behind the scenes. Where the discrete police state of the Federation only allowed the best and most efficient of crime organizations to exist under its ever-watchful gaze, the heart of Council space had a void to fill, and new upstarts were quick to take advantage of the vacuum of power.

A skycar slowly drove through the alleys of the very bottom ward, hovering only meters above the ground as it approached its destination. It was a dark, dreading place, with minimal lighting. At the base of the glorious skyscrapers of the wards, there were abandoned, broken down buildings, once full of

homeless and shady characters until the recent Terran led urban cleanups. The air vents that lined the ground and walls of the alleys were clogged and unmaintained; the air was stale and just filtered enough for breathable air. The car finally landed at an empty, poorly lit port.

"Sir, we've arrived," said the driver, who was also one of the guards.

Desolas sat up in his seat, "Good. Let's finish our business here."

"Yes, sir. Everyone, form up!"

The hatch opened and the four guards, driver included, got out and took position around the perimeter. They were of the elite Blackguard Special Forces of the Turian Hierarchy. Normally, they were elite soldiers who were assigned to missions involving a direct threat to Palaven. But Desolas had been able to wrench nearly full control of the unit from out of Command's hands and did with them as he saw fit. The Terrans were a direct threat to Palaven, as far as he was concerned. And unusual for how the average Turian would operate, the Blackguard was more inclined to follow Desolas than Command.

Desolas stepped out and onto the ground, wearing a common Turian business suit. Fog was all about, the lower level dehumidifiers not working at full capacity. His guards, dressed in regular mercenary armor, stood by him and kept their rifles up and aimed at the unknown beyond them. Desolas continued onward and stepped onto the sidewalk. He was waiting for his contact.

It was eerily silent otherwise. But something broke it, in the most silent of ways. The Blackguards were quick to react, one pulling Desolas aside as the others took point and aimed at a holodrone rolling towards them. It stopped in front of them, guards cautiously staring at it as they hid behind cover, fearing it might be an explosive device.

Desolas moved forward anyway, pushing his guards away as he approached it.

"It's a damn holodrone, not a grenade."

"Sir, wait…"

Desolas walked over to it and picked it up. It turned on and he let it hover out of his talons and into the air. In front of him, an image of a human appeared, dressed as some regular dockworker in a generic human template. As he casually stared at it, the hologram crossed his arms and looked at Desolas, smirking.

"So, you're the guy?"

Desolas replied, staring at the man as he maintained a neutral, disinterested look. "And if I were?"

The hologram calmly looked around, noting his mercenary guards and if anyone else was there.

"If you weren't, then it's just some Turian and a hologram having a… _pleasant_ conversation. Now, if you were, you'd stop wasting my time and show me you've got the what I want."

Desolas gave an ever-discontented chuckle, "That goes both way." He took a step forward, showing a clearly agitated mood, "Now, make good on your end first."

"Now, now," the hologram waved and laughed the whole thing off, Desolas rolled his eyes, "I know whom I'm dealing with. And I've got what you want."

The hologram pulled something out from his pocket. It was an OCD. He held it up at Desolas, a smug smile on his face.

"Is this what you wanted?"

Desolas looked at it, hiding his thoughts as he looked at the data he had been desperately looking for. But in a rare move, he let his true thoughts slip out from behind his mask. The man in the hologram saw it. Now he waited for the final piece. At the same time, his guards noticed something through the fog, keeping still in order to avoid breaking the illusion they didn't know any better.

Desolas regained his stoic appearance and asked, "Can you verify?"

"But of course." He grabbed the OCD, and from his end, he inserted the disc into the computer he was using. From Desolas' end, he saw a screen appear between them, showing several files, images, and list of Terran military secrets. It even included the one top-secret Terran document that the Hierarchy had been able to get a hold of: Operation Hannibal. But from the short glimpse, there appeared to be more that even he didn't know about. One of his guards reported in to Desolas' earpiece. They were not alone.

"Good stuff right there. I was told they have a bunch of Terran documents and intelligence reports. Useful stuff too, not that random garbage that gets leaked on occasion."

"This is… adequate."

"Adequate? This is top-quality information! The Shadow Broker makes sure what he sells is the real deal. Imagine if the Hierarchy got ahold of this." He gave Desolas another long and examining look. "Maybe _you_ can, actually."

Desolas followed up and asked, "Unusual that a human would be selling this to the perceived enemy."

The information dealer laughed at him, "Who said _I_ was a human? Even then, the only real patriotism any of those Terrans have is to the almighty dollar." He coughed, "Speaking of which."

Desolas rolled his eyes and snapped his talons. A guard walked over to him, a Turian style metal briefcase in hand. Desolas took hold of it and held it up to the hologram dealer and opened it.

"A hundred million dollars in silver-infused Bearer bonds. Well laundered and untraceable."

The hologram took a slip and gave it a good look, amazement in his eyes. The Terran Bearer Bond was an untraceable certificate of monetary value, this one backed by none other than the Federal Reserve itself. Each one had the marking of the highest value for bonds, ten thousand dollars. They were silver in appearance, and the surface was a thick plastic coating with actual silver and gold woven into the paper fabric beneath it. With metal weaving and physical existence, it was deemed as still being more secure than even Quantum Encrypted Credit Certificates. Along with the name, value, and authorization number and stamp, there were the portrait images of three prominent human-Terrans in three oval frames. The first on top was of Adam Smith, the credited founder of Terran Capitalism. The second below was of the First Terran Secretary of the Treasury, Althea Alexandria Bishop. The third one in the middle, partly overlapping the first two, was of President Thomas Anderson.

"Oh…" The dealer couldn't hide his craving for them. Desolas knew that for sure. "Here we go!"

The guard at the rear of the group radioed in, appearing to calmly be staring up at the skyline above.

"Reading activity on our perimeter."

Desolas made a slight groan against his closed lips; one the dealer wouldn't pay any mind to and would signal the rest of them to be ready.

"I would think as much." He closed the briefcase, getting him to look back at him, "So then, are we in agreement?"

The dealer nodded, the target confirmed. "Let's do business then–"

"And by business, you mean you give me the disc and I give you this briefcase? Or are you doing something stupid and…" He sighed, annoyed because he knew what the information dealer's answer was going to be, "wasting my valuable time?"

He looked at him, pretending to be shocked at the allegation. It wasn't hard, since the dealer really was, but for an entirely different reason.

"What in the galaxy do you even mean…? Attack! Now, now!"

A whole squad of mercenaries emerged from the windows; some came out from the empty buildings and alleys surrounding Desolas and his men. Before they were fully deployed, his guards quickly jumped into action, their HUDs going into full combat mode. Having time to note both their surroundings and the movement of the information dealer's troops, the Blackguards were quick to take cover and opened fire at the dealer's men through the fog. Three of them took aim at the windows and fired, taking out the dealer's sharpshooters while the last two rushed to secure the Primarch.

But Desolas was even quicker, more than able to hold his own in combat. As a squad rushed out in front of him to attack, he took out his side arm and fired into the thick fog. With ease and discipline in his motions, he got off three quick and clean headshots before they charged at him. In the confusion of the Turian's first strike, they emerged out of the fog into plain view and charged at Desolas and his guards in a reckless fashion. The two guards stood by him, opening fire and gunning down the dealer's troops with lighting speed and accuracy.

A few got up close, armed with bayonetted rifles and shotguns, but the battle hardened Primarch and his elite guards countered. As two locked arms with his guards, one rushed at Desolas. Briefcase in one hand and sidearm in the other, the merc thrust and Desolas simply sidestepped him. He then bashed him in the back of the neck with his pistol, and swung the briefcase up at his face, throwing him back. Desolas stared back at the dealer as he shot the merc on the ground, his guards quickly taking out their opponents with either a bullet in the head or a stab in the neck with a curved Turian blade.

"Sir, all hostiles are taken out."

Desolas nodded and spoke to the dealer, who saw everything.

"The terms of this business transaction have… changed."

The dealer took a step back worried for a moment before remembering he wasn't actually there.

"What the hell! You… shit. You're fucking Hierarchy! Fuck, fuck…"

He turned to his omni-tool, rushing to end the call. Desolas quickly signaled one of his guards to trace the signal. One of the guards turned his own omni-tool on and locked onto the carrier frequency. Panicking and bashing his omni-tool, the dealer reached off screen and took out a pistol. He raised it up at Desolas and fired, simply ending the broadcast.

"Major, did you trace the signal?"

The guard continued typing on his omni-tool. He then turned it off and turned to Desolas.

"Sir, he ended the call before I could find the location. But I was able to locate the different carrier points on the Citadel. We'll have to go to each one and locate the next carrier repeater to trace him."

He crossed his arms and rubbed his eyes, now just a bit annoyed at the turn of events. But his desire for that disc was far greater than he would show. It could be the key they needed to put his plan into action.

"Get back to the car. We will get that disc, today!"

As they walked back to the skycar, one more person sat on top of a low-rise building overlooking them and the skirmish. He looked at his omni-tool, having had the original location traced and marked. He stood up and prepared to leave, but turned back to watch as the Turian Primarch departed.

"What in spirits are you doing, Brother?"

* * *

 **Part 6:**

 **Saren and Fist  
Citadel Wards  
April 22, 2168 07:00:00 UTC**

"Shit… that's good stuff."

Separated from the loud beats and bright lights of the bar out front, Fist sat in the comfort of his office, surrounded by his personal posse. Beyond his desk was an assortment of VIP guests, including a Salarian passed out on the floor, a Batarian enjoying a dance from one of Fist's Asari dancers, and a drugged out Turian sitting deep in his seat, mesmerized by how his biotic powers looked from what he was on.

Fist took another long snort of the line of fine red powder on his table, and then sat back in his seat as an Asari on each side of him took turns with the rest. He laid back and stared up at the ceiling in a daze. He lifted his hand up, moving it above his face as he attempted to concentrate his mind and make his hand glow for a short moment.

"A-fucking-mazing! I'm going to be fucking rich."

The Turian slowly turned his head over to him, chuckling in random amusement. He finally spoke, "What the hell is this shit?"

"Dust from refined massatanium, mixed with my own formula to create this. Fucks up your mind and turns you into a damn kinetic."

An Asari next to him took another snort, "Shit, this is good."

Fist laughed at her, "Imagine actually being one and taking this? Must be like an athlete taking steroids."

The two Asari embraced him in his seat, caressing his head and chest. "We feel like goddesses!"

"And it must make them as horny as the goddess of sex herself, ha!"

The Turian rested his head back against the seat, lifting his talon to look at the glow of his hand. His actual biotics were trained enough to look like the glow of the fake drug enhanced biotics.

"So… what are you going to call it, boss?"

Fist pushed the girls off and reached over his desk for another snort.

"God damn!" He shook his head to think straight, "I want a name… one that that gives class to this thing."

"Class?"

"Yah, I said _class_! This is made from the most valued material in the galaxy! I don't intend to sell this as cheap crack to lowlifes on Omega. This is an elite drug, for the elite, and those who can pay to be in that level."

"Damn. The rich of the galaxy hooked on this red sand. You could control them!"

Fist chuckled, "The spice must flow… Wait, spice…"

The Turian looked over to see the Batarian, his face and four eyes buried deep in his Asari's bosom. Still waiting to see how Fist's previous engagement would turn out, the Turian decided to enjoy his time there. "You got a Quarian?"

Fist smiled at the request, "Into rat tail, I see?"

He took another snort of Fist's new drug, "Have you ever tried to get into a Quarian's suit? I'll pay you to get one out for me."

"Ha ha, fair enough, I'll just call…"

His desk comm went off, a message from outside his office coming through. He grumbled at the annoyance and grabbed the small communication device before slamming it back on his desk in front of him.

" _Boss, we got us a visitor here. Wants to talk to you._ "

* * *

At the front of Chora's Den, the Krogan bouncer awaited a response from Fist as Saren waited. Behind him was a line of men of multiple races, and some Asari, waiting to get in and waiting for the Turian who cut in front of them and demanding for Fist to get thrown out by the bouncer. A moment passed, just grumbling and some swearing before Fist responded.

"Who the fuck is it?"

"Some big shot Turian. Claims he needs to talk to you. In private."

"A big shot Turian? Shit, shit…" After some more grumbling, he responded, "Tell him I'm busy."

Saren sighed, "He's not coming out, is he?"

The Krogan laughed in his face and shoved him away, "And you're not getting in. Now get lost!"

"I'll be more straight forward," Saren raised his omni-tool and projected his official badge of a Council Spectre agent. "Let me into his office, now!"

The bouncer stared at it for a moment, a few more guards coming outside to check on what was happening. The line of clientele waiting to enter quickly dispersed, knowing exactly what was going to happen when a target was not going to comply with a Spectre's demands.

"Spectre?" The Krogan laughed at him, the guards moving into position around him and Saren, "The boss is a Terran! And if I remember correctly, they don't give a damn what a Spectre says. Hell, those pyjacks reneged on the treaty to recognize them."

Saren stared at him with a stoic face, the Krogan matching with the signature grin of his race, hoping to scare him off. It didn't work. After a moment, Saren smiled as well.

"That may be true. But if I'm correct, all of you aren't Terran…"

His omni-tool suddenly discharged, letting out a charged wave that shocked them all. In that moment of react, Saren kicked the Krogan from him and targeted one of Fist's men. Quickly, as he took out his knife, he stabbed the guard and charged forward with the knife in hand, slamming him into the wall. Saren grabbed his pistol and turned around, gunning down two more guards before they could recover from the shock.

As the Krogan bouncer recovered, the last one took aim with his rifle. Saren turned to face him and raised his arm to raise an omni-shield in order to deflect the point-blank fire. The lighting fast pellets hit his shield, melting away when they touched the molten silicon. Saren held his ground for nearly five whole seconds of continuous fire, the kinetic energy still transferring and pushing him back.

But as soon as the guard's rifle overheated, Saren replied with quick and devastating force. He leveled his arm and fired his shield at him, quickly turning it into an incinerating ball of plasma that instantaneously engulfed the poor guard and lit him on fire. Saren ended his suffering with a quick shot to his flaming head.

The Krogan bouncer then recovered and charged at Saren. No match for a head-on fight, Saren dodged charge after charge, hit after hit as the Krogan chased after the agile Turian, wrecking up the outside of the den all the while. With a combination of his elite training and a proprietary jump-jet he kept from his days as a Havoc Marine, Saren evaded the Krogan. Dodging the fight, guests, employees, and dancers ran out as Saren evaded and went inside. More of Fist's guards rushed in from the back, but the enraged Krogan became Saren's new weapon.

He quickly evaded and landed behind the bar. He grabbed some bottles and bashed their caps open. The guards searched around the den looking for him when he used his jump-jet to come out and into the air above them all. As they turned to him, he tossed the bottles of hard liquor at the Krogan and fired another incinerate round. Splashed by alcohol, the Krogan lit up into a magnificent and bright fireball; the guards around him dodged and kept their distance.

But as they backed away, gathering at the other side, Saren came falling down, omni-blade at the ready. He targeted one and slammed down, stabbing the guard and impaling him as a shockwave of residual silicon plasma splashed out and coated the others, burning them. As they panicked, the Krogan went into a blood rage and regained some control, locking onto Saren.

He roared and charged at him, breaking through counters, tables and chairs to reach him. Saren watched and took a few steps forward, staring the flaming Krogan down. Right at the moment of contact, Saren used his jump-jet to move straight up, dodging him as he charged into the remaining guards behind Saren. Hovering in midair, he turned back as an explosion of fire and men scattered out across the den. Saren blocked his eyes as the entire room below became engulfed in flames.

His jump-jet gave out and he landed back to the ground. The room was in flames, and the bar was on fire as light fixtures sparked with electricity, some even falling from the ceiling. He turned his attention to the back hallway, ready for his next confrontation.

As he walked away, the Korgan emerged from the ruins and charged one more time. Slower than before, Saren turned to him and grabbed hold of the bouncer, his robotic arm channeling power as his regular arm directed the Krogan in a quick shove to the ground. Saren took out his knife and jabbed it straight between the skin and upper plate of the Krogan; he twisted and popped part of the plate open. The Krogan yelled out in pain.

"And even if he's Terran, it's all the more a reason to blow his pyjack brains out... Like yours!"

He quickly stuck his pistol into the opening and fired multiple times into his unprotected head. In a second, he was dead.

* * *

"Shit, shit, shit!"

"What was all that noise?"

"Shut up!"

Fist rushed to his safe, throwing his belongings inside. He grabbed a pistol and closed the safe, before hanging a portrait of a naked Asari over it. Looking around, he rushed to his armor and attempted to put it on.

His girls looked to him, "What's going on, Boss?"

The Turian turned to them with a smile, "Someone's here to kill him."

"Damn it, who's side are you on?" asked Fist.

"Yours, sir!" he said, saluting him before his head fell back onto the couch.

"Ah hell, another idiot over his head. Let's go, girls."

"Wait, wait!"

The four Asari quickly dressed and made to leave. Just as they approached the door, it opened, revealing Saren. Seeing the dancers leave, he courteously stepped aside for them and let them leave. They all walked out, thanking him. As soon as they were out, he walked in, the door sealing behind him.

Fin rushed to aim, but Saren fired an overload and electrocuted the half armored human. The Batarian quickly jumped behind cover of the couch and cowered. The Salarian was still passed out. As Saren walked over, the Turian stood up, stumbling about as he tried to gain balance. Saren watched as he raised his fists and stumbled towards him. Saren simply pushed him and he landed face first on the floor, passed out.

Saren walked over and picked up Fist. He slammed him on his desk, removed his armor, and grabbed him by the neck.

"Where is the disc?"

"Fuck you!"

He punched him in the face and shoved his pistol into his mouth.

"Where is the damn disc?"

Fist gave up and eyed towards the portrait as he struggled to say so with the gun in his mouth. Saren pulled it out and rolled him over the desk as he walked to the safe. He removed the image and quickly hacked the safe open. Along with some other sensitive documents, he found the OCD and took it out.

He walked back and took a seat at Fist's desk. Fist got back up, at gunpoint by Saren as he examined the disc with his omni-tool.

"This… this can't be it!"

"What do you mean?"

Saren quickly stood up and grabbed Fist, slamming his head on to the desk.

"This disc is corrupted! The only information I found was what I saw at the meeting!"

Fist struggled to talk, "I swear, the Shadow Broker's agents gave it to me like that. But I checked, it's not corrupted, its encrypted!"

Saren pressed his pistol against Fist's head, "What the hell do you mean? What could Desolas possibly want with an encrypted data disc?"

"Why, to decrypt it, of course."

They both turned to the door, Desolas and his Blackguard escort walking in. Saren let go of Fist and turned to him.

"Primarch Arterius!" he said, saluting his brother.

"Now, now, Brother, we're not at some meeting. We are…" he thought about it, "In private, having a private meeting." He smiled and walked up to them. "Though I am surprised you are here."

Saren quickly formulated his cover, "I was interested in what you were doing on the Citadel."

Deoslas chuckled, "My, my, Mother was right. Such a spy. All the more reason to be a Ghost rather than a Spectre. Now then, the disc?"

Fist looked on, confused, "Wait, he's the buyer?"

Saren held his pistol at him, "Shut up!"

"So he is a Terran. Just as stupid as you are loyal to money, I see."

He gave the disc to him. Desolas looked on, utterly fascinated by the true and devastating secrets the disc held on the Terrans. The real work was only beginning, but he was a patient man.

"This could be the rebirth of our Turian nation." He turned to Fist, "Now then, what to do with you."

"I do have the legal authority as judge, jury, and executioner." Saren pressed the barrel at his forehead; Fist was too scared to move.

Desolas turned to his guards and snapped his talons. One walked over to him with the same briefcase. Desolas opened it and showed its contents, millions of dollars in silver bonds, before dropping it at Fist's feet.

"Your payment."

Saren and Fist looked at him, shocked, "What?!"

"I got what I wanted. That's all that mattered."

"But Desolas…"

"Saren!" Desolas finally raised his voice, "We are done here."

His guards walked back out as Desolas signaled Saren to leave with him. Fist looked at the silver notes, hardly caring how close he had been to dying now that he had this.

He grinned, laughing in joy, "I'm fucking rich!"

Desolas commented, "I recommend you spend that soon. When I'm done using this disc, well… That'll all be worthless."

Fist waved him off, "Shit, sure!"

Saren added on, "Also, you may need to talk to your boss. The Shadow Broker doesn't like his dealers trying to cheat and kill his clientele."

He stopped, a new dread coming across him, "Ah fuck!"

As they left, the Turian on the ground kept his head still, but reached for his omni-tool. He made a quick tap, sending out a message.

* * *

"I see…" Williams sighed, "The tradeoff has been made… as planned."

"What was that Dad?"

"Oh nothing. Work and all." He smiled to his son as their shuttle ascended up through the atmosphere to the transport ship. "So, Robert. Have you considered an officer's position?"

"I'm determined to work for that. Rise through the ranks, like Admiral Hackett."

He smiled, "My, my. My son. If you only came to the Army."

Robert chuckled, "And match what you did? By that standard, I'd be stuck as a private forever. Here, I can do my own work."

"But of course. _When I am gone. He works his work, I mine."_

"And I can only presume you're busy."

Williams sighed, "Till the day I die… and maybe after that. And Ashley? I see a leader in her. I look forward to the day see trades that green beret for a blue one."

"Oh, she takes more from her mother than she does you or I."

Williams looked at him, clearly faking confusion, "Marine? Damn, we Williams truly are a military family."

Robert chuckled, "Yes, we are."

The shuttle broke the clouds and the stars appeared. In low orbit was the Flagship _Telemachus' Great Search_ ; ready to take them across the galaxy as the Terran nation willed of them.

"Robert."

"Yes, Dad?"

Williams turned to him, locking eyes with his son making sure he knew how serious he was, "Be safe out there. And keep Ashley safe as well."

Robert nodded, "I will. And you stay safe, too. We'll be expecting you home for Resiliency Day."

He looked out towards the stars, "I'll do my best to keep you all safe from all threats…"

* * *

 _I… I could have stopped it. That whole war… I had my gun out, aimed at his head. Just a small pull, and millions would still be alive._

 _They… those who knew, they tell me it was the right decision, that I didn't shoot. They tell me, 'we are stronger, we are more advance, we have the Accord'. They tell me I created a golden age. I lived, so does our race. But it cost millions in turn, and I can't shake that off._

 _The terrans tell me… Harper tells me, that it was the right thing also. We all bled, and it made us stronger. A part of me thinks he doesn't mean it, for himself. But for everyone, mines and theirs, he does. To fight that real enemy. Those things from the void. The Terrans would do anything to ready the galaxy. Millions die and all they see was a price tag to make us stronger. But I guess… after seeing billions dies years earlier, this was easier to swallow for them._

 _Maybe, I guess. It had to be done, it had to play out that way. We have peace, and we have strength. When I met Bishop after the bombings last year, he said some things were inevitable. That a price not paid today is paid in interest tomorrow. Maybe, if not Desolas, it was me... not his, but my vendetta…_

 _We're getting ready to fight an enemy of legend. But to stand on the ashes of millions lost, I find it hard to say it was worth the sacrifice. If we are so accepting of that price, then is it not us that are the Reapers?_

 _ **From Primarch Tiberius Fedorian's Journal; – Date: Terran Year 2178, recorded before the Ceremony of the Ten Year Anniversary of the Forrest Accord**_

* * *

 **Section 14 Internal Monitoring: Video Call: Dialog Transcript –** Target: Section Agent Katia'Dorbin Vas New Haestrom, Naval Synthetic Lieutenant Matthew Nowzari, Naval Synthetic Commander Peter Stapleton **– Subject: Cover Job –** Date: October 12, 2167

KD: Hi, Matt!

 _MN_ : Katia, how are you?

KD: I'm good. How's Peter?

 _MN_ : He's busy with something. But he got promoted back to commander.

KD: That's good for him. It still seems weird an AI would be so focused on climbing the ranks.

 _MN_ : I think he's wired that way. He always dreads being a career officer, though. But the Thirdies always did hate their own existence. How're the others?

KD: I heard Jan got some hook up in 'Hollywood'. He's going to be an actor for this new TV show!

 _MN_ : That's great! And Mila?

KD: She's still searching. She specialized as a bureaucrat of sorts, but everyone back home only wants to hire a Quarian as an engineer or a scientist. I heard one of our Fleet Head Psychologists couldn't even get a license to practice because the idea of a non-STEM Quarian baffled the employment office.

 _MN_ : Good to know we eliminated Council discriminative employment… and replaced it with Terran discriminative employment. But what about you? You trained in security.

KD: That's why I haven't contacted you lately. I was undergoing background checks and additional surveillance for this new job… and I got it!

 _MN_ : That's great! What is it?

KD: I'm going to be an agent for the Central Bureau of Investigation!

 _MN_ : A-an... a CBI agent?

KD: Yah! They needed more field agents to operate in Terran controlled Council space, like Illium. They got ahold of what we did on the Citadel, and they offered me a chance to interview for a position.

 _MN_ : That's, uh, amazing!

KD: You don't seem excited.

 _MN_ : I'm sorry. I'm just worried.

KD: Aw, Matthew. You have such a caring routine matrix!

 _MN_ : The latest version! 1.00.02! Still in beta though.

KD: But I'll be all right, Matt. I start my training in a few days. Then in a month, I'll most likely be deployed to Illium to recover pilgrims and exiles to bring back home. Maybe catch a bad guy or two.

 _MN_ : Ok then. Just be safe now, my orange pear.

KD: I will, my synthetic dear.

 _MN_ : Our love, though, ever real!

KD: Aw!

 **PS:** All engineering crew to your stations! The hyperdrive core is about to go critical! We need to begin emergency procedures, now!

KD: What's going on?

 _MN_ : Same old, same old; weekly hyperdrive core meltdown.

 **PS** : Oh God, we're all gonna die... Oh wait, I backed myself up during shore leave. Ha ha, so long, meat bags!

 _MN_ : I, uh, I should get going, though. Good luck!

KD: Bye, Matt!

* * *

 _ **Terran Wikipedia:**_

 _(By the Authority of the Federal Communications Committee, this document has been doctored in accordance to the 'Orwellian Freedom Act' to ensure non-biased and informative information for the Terran People.)_

 _ **Mirage Contingency**_

 _Author_ _:_

 _Henry M. Ghali, UTF Founder Representative from Arab-Israeli Alliance;  
Garret Madison, UTF Founder Representative from Russo-American Star Alliance._

 _Formulation Date_ _: August 13, 2111_

 _Date of Initial Effectiveness_ _: September 1, 2111_

 _Date of Repeal_ _: September 12, 2150 (39 Years in Effect)_

 _Purpose_ _: The protection of the location of Earth and Sol in the event of extraterrestrial invasion, or massive colonial rebellion; Part of Continuity of Government (COG)._

 _The Mirage contingency was a massive, nationwide encompassing contingency plan. Its main purpose upon conception was to hide the location of Earth and the Sol System through the purposeful, systematic, and total destruction of all information that can be used to formulate a location navigation point. UE and later Terran Founder Henry Ghali and Garret Madison conceived it by request of the United Earth government to protect Earth and ensure the continuation of governments through the protection of the location of the home world and capital. It was officially declassified and removed from use by the 26_ _th_ _Congress, following the Great Revival and the lift of the Blockade of Sol._

 _The Mirage Contingency was created as part of a way to protect the galactic location of Earth. With the knowledge that life can truly be out in the cosmos, it was important that Earth, the capital of the UE and later, UTF, was safe. This was also to protect Earth by denying location data to the colonies, in the event hostile colonial humans wish to try and return to Earth by force. The contingency would work by giving the federal, state, and local governments all authority to destroy digital and physical copies of star charts and navigation maps leading to Earth. This includes systematic wiping of the galactic expanding Internet, confiscation of private servers and data nodes, and even the complete destruction of public and private monuments that display the location of Earth in a manner any intelligent life form can understand._

 _From the start, based on revealed records detailing practicing its enforcement, this was highly difficult to practice. While destroying digital copies that were Internet accessible was easy, the problem laid in finding every copy made offline. Physical copies held in private hands were an even greater challenge since they could be copied with no evidence of that fact, besides the copy._

 _This also was compacted by how the continuing use of the mass relays made hiding Earth's location nearly impossible. It became almost common knowledge how to use the relays to get to Earth, and the plan still required congressional approval to allow agencies to deal with even a few people with Earth's location, let alone millions who knew. Those in the government and military aware of the plan soon moved focus away from it; it was deemed better to plan to try and defend the routes to Sol and Earth than hide it._

 _Both measures came into play at the start of the Great Revival. When the Sol Blockade was created, the Mirage Contingency went into effect for the first and only time. Across the Internet, all public and private sources of Earth's galactic location point was wiped, while all sources found were destroyed on the colonies. This sparked massive protest, one of many during the time, as colonists felt the government was denying them access to the home world. The plan's weaknesses grew greater when private individuals took it upon themselves to preserve the knowledge of where Earth was, creating ways for people to access and copy it, all while the Federation government lacked the ability to stop them or limit distribution. All the while, it was simply common knowledge by 2147, which relays led straight to Earth. Unable to turn off the relays, military forces placed greater effort in stopping blockade runners than denying the navigation knowledge to get there. It was estimated that there were over two hundred daily attempts to run the blockade at the relay to Chiron. There were an estimated one thousand attempts to get to Sol through conventional FTL. Approximately two hundred people died attempting either, through either natural travel hazards or military intervention._

 _After the Great Revival, all of Congress was briefed on the nature of the blockade of Sol and the Mirage Contingency. The capital itself was moved to Eden Prime during the war. When records were first released, massive riots quickly broke out in the colonies for the government's active attempt to destroy knowledge of where the home world was. In a rare unanimous vote by the house and senate, one that purposefully avoided President Vetrol and his threat of veto, the contingency was repealed._

 _In the aftermath, and to avoid and foil any attempt to enact it or any similar plan in the future, Pegasus Uplifted President and CEO Minoru Garson worked with Founder Althea Bishop to increase general education and access to materials of Earth and its location. The hope of this being that it would go from difficult to virtually impossible to hide away Earth from anyone outside of Sol. This accumulated with the 'New Voyager Initiative', the massive private launch of deep space satellites, inspired by the old Voyager satellites from the 20_ _th_ _century. Nearly a hundred thousand 'New Voyager' satellites were launched in all directions from the borders of the Federation. Equipped for long term broadcast, they would continuously broadcast information about the Federation. Each were also equipped with an updated Golden Record with not only relics of Humanity, but also an updated map of Earth, using three bright stars to triangulate its position from anywhere in Orion's Arm._

 _In early July of 2168, a Salarian scout vessel has reported to have found one such satellite while surveying the stars along the border. It is currently being held on Sur'Kesh for research by a Council-Terran science team. There are plans in place to donate the satellite to the Citadel Archives._

 _Last updated August 19, 2168 01:28:00 UTC_

* * *

 _Galactic Codex: Terran Edition, Galactic Standard Year 2908._

 _ **Marcell Toma:**_

 _ **Born:**_ _2798 GS, 19_ _rd_ _day of the Turian Month of Caesim; Carthvale, Palavan_

 _ **Service:**_ _Turian Navy, Council Fleet (reinstated)_

 _ **Years of service:**_ _2816-2867; 2907-Present_

 _ **Rank:**_ _Fleet Admiral, Head Commander for the Turian Navy; Head Dean of the Academy;_

 _ **Battles/Wars:**_

The Terminus Incursions

 _The Valhalla Campaign_

The Blockade of Garvok

 _Operation: Talkdown_

 _The Massacre of Garvok_

The Pilgrim Uprising

 _Citadel Bombings_

 _Cyone Incident_

 _Tuchunka Insurgence_

 _ **Awards:**_

 _Nova Cluster Medals (10)_

 _The Medal of the Sky Titans (2)_

 _Banner of the Grand Legion, First Class_

 _The Primarch's Medal of Service (2)_

 _The Order of Duty and Honor (2)_

 _Salarian Silver Dagger_

 _Salarian Stealth Medallion_

 _Asari Atheme's Shield (2)_

 _Admiral Marcell Toma is the admiral of the Fifth Fleet of the Turian Navy. In his over fifty years of service in the Hierarchy Military, Marcell Toma is regarded as one of the most prolific figurers to lead the Hierarchy in the past two centuries. Serving as Head Fleet Admiral for the Navy, he led the way in the initial reformation of the military under the rule of Primarch Tabitha Victorio, once his sister-in-law. He is often viewed as the head mentor for late war hero Marcus Junius and current Primarch Gaius Cassiud._

 _Born to a regular family in the desert oasis of Carthvale on Palaven, he is the second of four children, his older sister being Marina Toma. Joining the military at conscript age, he had a slow initial rise in the ranks, due to his Carthvale heritage. In ancient Palaven, the Carthavalian Empire was the major enemy of the alliance between the Greko Confederation, the Ronim Empire, and Kingdom of Gematica; the alliance gave birth to later civilizations that would form the Hierarchy. His initial stand out came during the failed Terminus Incursion led by Turian Councilor Pombius, where he coordinated and in two occasions, led several Naval squadrons against raiders in the terminus systems._

 _As a commander, he began forming political connections, using the influence from his sister, who was in close confidence with then General Victorio. It is believed there were strains in this, especially when his sister Marina and Victorio married, creating a conflict between the Traditionalist Toma and the Reformist Victorio, at a time when political interest easily trumped family ties._

 _Originally a Traditionalist, he switched sides sometime during the disaster of the blockade of Garvok, when Separatist forces attempted to secede from the Hierarchy. His sister served as a negotiator during Council led talks. The poor execution of forces by now Primarch Pombius saw the death of several tens of thousands of colonists, a loss of face on the Council, and the death of Toma's sister and General Victorio's wife. With Pombius forced out of office by a rare move by the Senatoria, Victorio ascended as the new Head Primarch. Now Admiral Toma, joined by her Reformist bloc, restructured the Hierarchy Political and Military system to prevent such an event and loss of life. Up to her death during the Turian-Batarian war, he served as a close confidant._

 _In his later years, he would serve as Head Fleet Admiral, where he served as the direct commanding officer to then Lieutenant Commander Junius and Lieutenant Cassiud during the early half of the Quarian Pilgrim Uprising. After several failures by his subordinates in capturing the terrorists Miri Ghirn and Zaren Vali, he opted for reassignment as the new Dean Admiral to the Academy, though he kept his position as Head Fleet Admiral by name. In his academia years, he mentored many more officers, including Admiral Tiberius Fedorian, Admiral Herald Parrus, and General Desolas Arterius. Years later, he would officially step down as Fleet Admiral and grant this position to Admiral Marcus Junius. He would retire a year later._

 _Having a family of three children and numerous grandchildren, he survived the raid on Illium in 2907 (2167 United Terran Coordinate Time) by Terminus raiders. Six of his grandchildren and his son, the commander of the Nanus's Stand, were killed defending the planet. As part of Fedorian's subsequent reforms initiative, he reenlisted and proved to be an early and staunch supporter, bringing much of the Navy with him. Like Fedorian, he supported opening and strengthening relationships with the United Terran Federation._

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/

Hey Everyone!

Thank you all for reading!  
As mention by a guest called 'blackmailer26'  
I originally divided my chapters up by parts, each divided only by a time and date.

To better allow you all to follow whats going on in a clear manner,  
Chapter after Chapter, Part after Part,  
I edited all my chapters to clearly indicate when in the plot it is happening.  
I hope they help you all understand and enjoy reading.

So thank you once again.  
Please feel free to review and comment.  
I'm welcome all constructive comments, for I always aim to improve my writing!  
If you got any questions, always feel free to add it to review, or PM me.  
I be glad to answer!

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\


	30. 29: Those Who Dare

**Chapter Twenty-Nine: Those Who Dare…**

* * *

The Great Autumn War? God damn it. I still wonder. How did you birds get access to those resources? Vital military secrets, detailed FIA and Section operation files and documents. Williams completely dropped the damn ball. The Nation was able to strike at our heart. Primarch Desolas Arterius getting ahold of that information was like introducing a flamethrower to a pile of petrol soaked wood. He lit the entire Federation on fire. And we ended up doing the same to the Hierarchy in retaliation. I… I'm still amazed by how much the galaxy _didn't_ burn from the Turian Vendetta and the Terran Scourge. But several million lives were extinguished, still. Jade would have called them 'acceptable casualties'. If she was still here; God, Jeremy poisoned her mind.

You know, my son-in-law thought it was unavoidable. That 'it was better the war was fought now, and not later down the road'. He said the same damn thing when we fought the Revival. That grand clusterfuck-of-man cost me three of my children! My oldest, Chiang! My youngest, Tang! And my only daughter, Jade! His wife! The mother of my grandchild, Alex! He shouldn't have been President… but then again, he didn't have a choice in that, did he? Our fucking 'Designated President' . . . the poor bastard.

I guess, in the end, Humanity has only itself to blame. We marched into the galactic spotlight, claimed the wrongs of 'complacency', how we would show the galaxy how to advance, and led the way. Then the Turians turned that around on us in just over a damn year. Oh, the fucking irony. I don't know which was worse. The attacks by the Turian Nation or the rise of Cerberus because of it. But I know we learned something from it; that we, the Quarians, and Batarians bled a fine red, the Turians bled a bright blue, and we founded the color of the Accords on the sickening hue from its mix. _Concordia Purpura Sanguis_. The Purple Blood of the Accord.

It makes me wonder if I could have done something, all those years ago, if I could have prevented some of it, the Revival, the Autumn War. I wonder if anyone could have helped stopped it. I wonder if someone wanted it…

 _Damn it, I can't submit this to the VA. Computer, delete statement… no wait, transfer this to my personal journal. Double encryption. *sigh* I'm just… I'm going to take a break first._

 **Section 14 Surveillance:** A deleted rough draft of a letter addressed to the Multinational Forrest Accord Veterans Affairs about his view on the causation leading to the Great Autumn War. **Authored by: Former Terran President Huang Chen Lin –** 2177

* * *

 _Keelah! Have you seen them? Those new_ _ **Destiny Assertion**_ _class dreadnoughts. Scary. Yet incredibly graceful and beautiful. It's a masterpiece of engineering. As artistically powerful as its weapons. I hope to never face one. Equal in beauty, as it is deadly._

 _Three four-kilometer guns that could tear Hackett's_ **Falkland Reefs** _, and hell, his entire fleet, a new one. Hyper-Distortion missiles that can chase the fastest of Fedorian's ships through hyperspace. And Ancestors, its damn mass relay gun. The Protheans are done. We Terrans have defied the Protheans. But the Asari has truly surpassed them._

 _I read the reports of one of its first deployment, during a peacekeeping mission to uphold the ceasefire during peace talks between the Union and the Dominion. The combined Salarian fleets outnumbered the Federal Council-led Turian and Terran taskforce five to one. If there was one thing that united the two Salarian fleets, it was that they were ready to pounce on us. A new Asari ship, the_ **Galaxías Kýklos** _, showed up, and the two fleets of nearly twenty thousand backed down._

 _Thank God we have the Accord. With Tevos retired and Lidanya with their goddess, the Asari may be looking to follow the path of the Empire before us. If they want to assert their destiny, they'll have to go through Guzman and Fedorian! Earth and Palaven stand strong against Aethyta and her Thessian Menace._

 **Part of a statement to NBC and CNN reporters by Sixth Fleet Admiral Han'Gerral Vas Sands of Rannoch,** part of his official sponsorship for the reelection of President Guzman. 2175

* * *

 **Part 1:**

 **Matriarch Aethyta – Illium  
Fourteen Months into the Interbellum  
Three Days before the Vendetta**

 **September 1, 2168: 03:00:00 UTC**

Aethyta walked through the doors of her apartment, yawning. Overall, she had a good night's sleep. She had the Terrans and their work laws to thank for her more moderate work schedule. Leaving her apartment building, she walked to the nearby public transit, where soldiers of the Terran Expeditionary Force stood guard over the terminal. A carpool skycar arrived and she and the next few in line got on board. The car left quickly after that, merging with traffic.

Illium had been under Terran control now for the past year. The Army had deployed an expeditionary force to the major cities. True to their training, as a force meant for occupation than frontline combat, they had done a rather marvelous job of maintaining the peace and safety on the planet while maintaining an atmosphere of minimal presence; besides their heavy handed approach to dealing with protesters, which was compared by dissenting residents as, 'a squad of Krogans with Hierarchy style training.'

The Navy had now been using Illium to expand its control of the Terminus border. The Third Fleet was seen initially as a welcomed sight, and replacement, of the Council Terminus Defense Fleet. With both a greater ship count and a greater arsenal of weapons, colonization companies saw a massive spike in growth thanks to the newfound safety of the border clusters. For trading companies, trade within Council regions had increased, but trading between the Terminus itself had dropped. Terran regulations saw massive confiscation of material that existed in the Council grey area of the law, but were explicitly illegal by Terran law. This, combined with the Terrans' ' _Talk First, Shoot Second_ ' policy and their constant counter-raids across the border, resulted in a shift in the economic landscape of the area.

The Matriarch arrived at the transit near the Exchange. The massive free fall from the attack by the raiders saw the defunct of what was once the second largest stock and material exchange in the galaxy. It had since been replaced by a sharing of the New York, Noverian, and Shanghia Stock Exchange; many Council companies had either made the move to trade in those exchanges, or left to trade on the Citadel or Irune. Moving through the different exchange floors and connection corridors, business was still going about as usual. Terran taxes were higher, the rules were strict, but the Terrans offered Council investors the most desired fact for long-term trade: stability and certainty.

She finally made it to the bar to begin her shift. It may be morning, but the bar never emptied. The sight inside was never any different; people were socializing and drinking, like they had for a hundred years. Even with more civil Batarians, many unmasked Quarians, and the new human crowd it didn't seem any different. Though with the Terrans, the routine shenanigans were new.

As Aethyta walked in, she saw something most interesting. A human female with natural red hair, dressed in the formal uniform of a Terran Marine, was dragging a Krogan out the door.

"Damn it, when I said, 'We'll bang, okay?' it wasn't a question!"

The far larger Krogan seemingly wailed in fear as he was dragged across the floor, "Somebody help me!"

She walked by, simply ignoring the Krogan and human. As they left, another patron walked in, dressed in civilian attire. He nodded to her as he walked by.

"Cadet."

"Admiral."

He walked in and walked over to the bar. Aethyta relieved the last shift and prepared her station as he sat down. He rested his arm on the high counter and rested his head on it, waiting for her to set up. She turned to him, he was wearing a black jacket with a white bar divided by two red lines going down his right sleeve, an N7 patch sat his right chest, and a B7 pin on his left. He looked at her and smiled.

"Mondays, huh?"

Aethyta rolled her eyes, "One, I don't get your idiom for your weekly layout system. Two, it's Thursday."

"Oh?" he chuckled, and leaned in closer to her, ready to lay on the charm that matched his looks; he was a tanned Greek man with light brown eyes and the perfect hair color of experienced grey and youthful black, "But I must ask. Why is a young woman like you working in a place like this?"

She replied with a snarl, "I'm older than your nation."

"So am I! We have so much in common. And I like older woman…"

"Order something before I throw you off the balcony."

He sighed, but kept his smile towards her, "Oh well. It was worth a shot. Speaking of which, a shot of Quarian 'Warp Plasma'. Levo version. I like to actually get a buzz… and not have my stomach explode."

She crossed her arms, "I thought you pyjaks could handle dextro?"

"Not whatever those suit rats distill. I doubt even a Krogan can handle it."

She began to make his drink, grabbing a few bottles of high alcohol content liqueur. She put them up in a mix bottle, and used her biotics to mix the drink up, altering the mass to fuse otherwise immiscible liqueurs for a truly unique drink. Finally, she poured it into a tall, skinny glass.

As he watched, he asked a question, "Tell me. I heard that Matriarchs tend to stay home in Asari space, dispersing wisdom to the young."

"You don't know me. And for the record, they keep only those who say what they want to hear."

He nodded his thanks for the drink and slid an 'Anderson' hundred dollar bill on the table to her, "Well, it's not a bad position, really. The best advice in life comes from a bar keep." The man shot it down and shook his head wildly, tying to pass off the sting of the drink. He then stumbled over to a table where a pair of Krogans and several bottles were sitting. He looked at them with a glare, "Hey, toad! I challenge you to a drink off."

One of the Krogans turned and looked at him funny, but grinned, "Fine, pyjak," He grabbed a bottle and slammed it on the table in front of him, "Drink!"

She took the silver bill and deposited it in the register, the change transferring to her tip tab. Her day was going to be long, but with the sun out over the city and the market on a roll, business at Eternity was ensured. But as she prepared her station and watched over the bar, someone new entered. Aethyta paid no attention at first, but when the face became clear to her, she kept her eyes straight on as the guest sat down at the counter.

"Aethyta."

"Benezia."

"A Thessian Temple. Maiden. On the rocks." It was an ironically Terran drink, with a good dose of vodka, the way a young 'maiden' would want it, and with ice.

She gave a quizzical look for a brief moment, but began making it, slicing a lemon to coat the edge of the glass, "That's a normally neat drink. Matriarch style." It was normally a non-alcoholic drink as well.

"Its not the only thing on the rocks, Aethyta." She watched her pour a bottle of orange juice and cherry flavored vodka. She seemed calm, looking at her, but it hid her near millennia aged sense of worry, "Things are becoming unstable at home."

"On Thessia?" She finished the drink and dropped a few ice cubes in, "What do you mean?"

"The Terrans. The Matriarchs are scared of their growing power. Tevos has been unable to hold Goyle back." She looked at her drink, sensing the irony of it, "As they are matching the Turians in might and weaponry, they are matching the extension of their clout and force in our area of control."

Aethyta simply shrugged off her discrete worry, "I saw that the moment they made contact." She cleaned up her counter, "They should have been ready."

"How could we?" Benezia raised her voice subtly, but in a clear contrast to her former partner, "Even I didn't foresee this turn of events. They know what they are doing, forcing us out from our power base. Quick to draw our attention, slow enough that…"

"That they want to see our reaction?"

"It's a game. They want to test us. It's no different from a military force probing enemy lines to see their true strength. But are they waiting for us to respond in force, or are marching forward, claiming victory after victory and slowly watching us fall to them."

Aethyta was genuinely worried about that last point, "It's a delicate balance. We don't know what they are truly planning, but we see enough. We see exactly what they want us to see. What is it that they want us to do?"

"Some Matriarchs on Thessia have come up with a plan."

She moved about behind the back of the bar, presumably making other drinks for orders, "A plan." She chuckled at the thought, "A year and they have a plan. Quite fast. Or quite slow…"

"In the Terrans' mind?"

"Possibly."

"I see. Then they did make the right decision."

"What do you mean?"

Benezia leaned forward. Aeythya walked over to listen to what she had to say.

"A group has come to me for help… to ask that you return to Thessia."

She quickly took a step back in surprise, "What?" She finished up her drinks and called for a waiter to deliver them. She kept moving about, attempting to distract herself. But the other Matriarch saw through it. She was acting like any other Asari. But she knew that Aethyta could handle more.

"The Republic needs you. The Asari need you."

"To do what?" She signaled to the DJ to increase the volume. No one else was at the counter, so she tossed her towel on the floor, frustrated, "To stop the Terrans?"

"Well… yes."

"This is the best they can think of? Call someone with unorthodox ideas back and hope she has the answers? This needs far more than that, Nezzie. Not a plan that'll take a century to turn things around. We need to act in the moment! To trade punch after punch in the thick of the moment, as well as plan a victory twenty steps ahead."

"You, Thyta. You can do that."

"It would take years to turn not just our policy around, but our people. Do they know that? Fighting the Terrans in any field amounts to a change in not just action, but thinking, in being!" She looked around, seeing no supervisor anywhere. She poured herself a drink and leaned on the counter, looking at her former partner, "That'll never happen. We are not a people that _assert our destiny_."

Benezia simply looked at her for a moment, then stood back up, and thought about it. "I see. But even I know we are not entitled to simply _ascend our destiny._ But if we don't do something, we will certainly fall from it."

"I wish I could help. Maybe I could have…" She looked up and out over the balcony to the Nos Astra. The bright sun was rising. "But thus it's dusk. We are late."

Benezia stood up. Her job was done, and she was unsuccessful, for the time being. But as she turned around and looked at the sun, a human phrase came to mind. Maybe, in the irony, it may be right.

"Darkest is the night… before the dawn." She turned back to her, "Goodbye Aethyta. I'm sorry I wasted your time."

"You didn't, I'm just sorry I wasted yours. But I can't help."

"One day… one day."

She left, Aethyta watched on with regret, but more assured that nothing could be done. She finished her drink and cleaned her counter; more people were coming in as they day aged. She was content on where she was. Her fate seemed sealed. She was in no position to assume otherwise.

Across the bar, her first customer of the day stood in a drunken stupor. His head was bleeding as he took another chug from a bottle. Two Krogans lay on the ground, their head plates slightly cracked. All around him, sailors, soldiers, and Marines on leave cheered the man on.

"Paris! Paris! Paris!"

He looked at the Krogans and belched.

"I'm a quarter Aussie!" He almost tripped on himself, but stayed up and pointed at them, "I'm three times the Krogan you'll ever be!"

They all cheered for him, a man beloved by all branches of the military.

"Cheers to the Admiral, a true sailor!"

"The first and best N7 Marine!"

"The finest soldier and Beret to come out of old Terra!"

He looked over to the counter, noticing the Matriarch was still there, serving drinks as usual. His Intel had suggested she join. His intuition had said otherwise. _But time will be the maker of them all_ , he thought. Then he fell to the ground.

"Damn you, Williams."

* * *

 **Part 2:**

 **Councilor Nerval - Talat, Sur'Kesh  
Two Days Before the Vendetta  
September 2, 2168: 12:00:00 UTC**

"You had best be careful with those words, my young protégé."

The armed shuttle carrying the Salarian Councilor and his military escort cruised through the blue skies of their home world. With the dawn behind them, the shuttle descended down into the valley during its approach to the capital city. Just beneath it was the green, ever lively jungles of Sur'Kesh, rich in the same biodiverse life that the Salarians had evolved from.

"I am well aware that the walls have ears, Councilor."

"No, Kirrahe. Not ours, but the Terrans. Do not underestimate them. They have far more secrets and hidden plans than even us."

The Lieutenant nodded, "I agree. What Solus told me after his 'tour' was very interesting. I do not see how the Dalatrass can expect to be ready."

"She can't. But this isn't about preemptive readiness. We already lost that. We must be quick and adaptive instead."

He thought about that, "The STG can do that. But the entire Union? They have all their heads jammed up their cloaca!"

Nerval turned to the viewport and looked out at the jungle, "For a race that had to adapt and evolve in a world like ours, we have the means. Do not think we don't. But alas… do we have the will?"

The shuttle arrived at its destination, the main city of Talat. Built along both the sides of the hills and above part of a large gleaming lake between them, it stood as a testament to the Salarians' evolutionary and architectural design for a clean, sustainable, and prosperous coexistence with the environment. The shuttle touched down on a launch pad high above near the main capital building.

Kirrahe was the first off, walking against the wind as he and the escort group he was leading stood by, waiting for Nerval. Nerval himself got off and took a moment to take in the sight of his home world. The air was fresh and cold, the sight of the skyscrapers of Talat and the jungles that coexist within bright and striking. As an agent and as a politician, he had forgotten that. And as he neared the end of his life, he was glad to take it in one more time.

As he did so, two other Salarians walked over to meet them. A detailed guard force also followed them.

"Councilor Nerval."

He turned around and acknowledged the two.

"Dalatrass Walord. General Tann. A pleasant day to you."

"And you too, Councilor Nerval," responded the Dalatrass in her usual mild tone.

The General responded with the annoyance he had, though, "And what is the purpose of this meeting? The Dalatrass is quite busy."

"Simple. As the first of the Terrans…"

"Humans."

"Whichever you prefer. As their first year since First Contact ends and we continue on, we must discuss where we stand, politically and militaristically, in relation to them."

The Dalatrass simple looked at him, displeased, "This issue has been put on as a lower priority, for the time being."

Nerval replied, far less tactful, "And by that, you must mean when I am gone."

The General replied before the Dalatrass could answer, "Yes."

The Dalatrass quickly spoke out, displaying her full displeasure as she attempted to rectify his tactless answer.

"That is absolutely not the case!" She looked at Tann sharply, a nod followed after, which dismissed the man. Tann simply nodded and left. "Councilor Nerval, to what ends do you call this meeting?"

"If we may speak in private. This can all be explained properly…"

* * *

In the office of the head Dalatrass, Nerval began to discuss his views on the matter. In Salarian politics, both knew that Nerval had a very uphill battle if he wanted to sway anyone to his thinking. It was already difficult being in an appointed position his no longer in power family got him. Being more Terran friendly only compounded that; a majority of the political family clans had maintained a neutral stance. But with some secretly siding with Nerval, and many more far from the middle on the other end, new and deeper divisions were being drawn.

"You proposed military buildup. We initially agreed. And it did not end well."

"But we have given up too soon. More time is needed. The Turians are making progress, and have already branched out into new fields of science as well."

"But what we have is cutting edge…"

"We are on the bleeding edge of outdated technology! The Terrans themselves have pushed their own progression to new levels in response to the Turians. The Turians made the switch because the same tech we use won't cut it. Cassiud is in, and their old bloc as well."

Walord stood up from her seat, "This buildup, Councilor, we can adapt. We can build. But while many question why we should build up, I want to know. Whom are we building up against?"

"Against?" Nerval stood up as well and walked with her to the window, a clear view of the lake and traffic above it. "With all due respect, Dalatrass Walord, we must build in defense against everyone."

"Everyone? We live in peace! We have allies!" A moment of silence passes, the Councilor and STG agent who knew nearly as much as she waited for her follow up. "And we already have contingencies."

"Against a Pre-Terran Hierarchy. A Pre-Terran Republic. A Pre-Terran Council! We had plans, but our plans are old. And our planners can't make plans for the distant future, they need to be able to plan for the heat of the moment."

"For what, Councilor?" She turned to the aged man, "We live in peace. _You_ are the one who demanded we reach out and make peace. But it seems you think the peace you desired is gone." She gestured for him to sit back down. She did as well, thinking about what was happening. "Is it?"

"The peace is there," Nerval thought about what to say, "There are forces I can't find but I know exist, keeping that peace."

"Some forces? What forces?"

"I… I don't know."

"You don't know? We have plans because that's a given. But if we keep hammering down on buildup, on copying the Terrans, or going out on our own scientific ventures, then that's suspicious. People can see that. The Asari, the Turians, the Terrans, the Council and galaxy will see that. You have, against the will of Talat and Sur'Kesh, fought to make this peace." She sat back in her seat. "I respect you for that, Protago. Against my family, I let you be. I have let you keep that seat. It is because of our past all those years ago, I let you have free reign. But this is too far. What you propose will still take time."

He sighed, "Time… time after I am gone." He leaned back in his seat, contemplating. He turned to his old friend and chuckled, "Please tell me you're not going to appoint Valern after me, Ieana."

She clasped her hands, and smiled at him, "He's family. A weak man, but… you how this is, all of this."

Nerval nodded, "I do… but even in broad daylight, you can see different things in the light. We have peace, but the Turians are gearing up, the Terrans are buckling down. The Asari are as fractured and desperate as ever for an answer. If we don't get ready, ready for the impossible, we could end up on the short end when it all comes down. No action is the most dangerous action. We can't afford to be indecisive."

"Lines have always been drawn in Sur'Kesh, Protago."

"Lines can be drawn and erased. But a fracture, from anywhere, is not so easily fixed. There are those who think they can fix what the old order can't."

"I hear what you say," She turned her seat out to the view, "You said there are forces helping to keep the peace? I know you worry, but is this not a good thing?"

"One wants the peace. But another is rising to do the opposite. If they battle, then, well… I've served long enough to know, the battles in the shadows tend to light up the galaxy."

* * *

 **Part 3:**

 **Primarch Desolas Arterius and Admiral Tiberius Fedorian  
Vallum, Taetrus – An Hour Before the Vendetta  
September 3, 2168: 18:00:00 UTC**

The day has come. All his planning and all his waiting. He didn't have to wait too long. The seemingly lifetime opportunity of obtaining a bountiful cache of Terran secrets had been a critical aid to him. The Turians were advancing quickly. In fact, they were advancing far more quickly than even what the Terrans expected, and quicker than Williams initially wanted. But as he dug deeper into that OCD he got his talons on, the more eager he grew. It had everything he ever wanted. And he knew there was still more to the Terrans' great secrets.

Desolas had waited. It was the smartest move. Yes, he was rallying anti-Terran sentiment. But he was smart about it. A seemingly calm mind would rule the day, and it would win him key allies. Fedorian was one of them. He gathered numbers, the best the Hierarchy had. Assured that the human-Terrans were the threat, he waited and gathered in strength. He was not going to let foolish emotional outbursts get the better of him.

But now, he had the key. The key, the rallying cry, the undisputable proof to justify his hatred and suspicion of these upstarts. He had the means, now he had his _Casus Belli_.

His shuttle lowered to just above the tree line of the marshlands outside the city of Vallum, on his colony world of Taetrus. Ahead was the city. His destination was the government building for the colony and the entire cluster, the Radiatum. Passing through the buildings of strong concrete, each like a fortress of their own, the Radiatum appeared in sight. Though it didn't appear as such, the entire area was heavily protected with Havoc Marines posted across the city, and an elite naval flotilla commanded by Admiral Parrus was in orbit. That was normal, both to the populace and to the Terran and Council agents who got word that a moderate number of Hierarchy officials were gathering.

But with the hidden Ghost and Blackguard agents scattered across the city and guarding the rooftop of the Radiatum, it was a clear that only far more were present. This was a very important meeting, one demanding the personal attendance of many, like the entire officer core of the Hierarchy.

His shuttle landed and he took the first step out. His personal guard in full armor quickly followed behind to guard him. As he walked to the roof elevator, Admiral Parrus and the reinstated Admiral Toma were waiting for him at the door.

They turned and saluted, "Primarch Arterius!"

"Admiral Parrus." He saluted back to them then opened his arms to embrace Toma, "Marcell! It's been too long!"

The aged man hugged him back and chuckled, "Desolas. It's been a while. Parrus here told me you arranged this meeting?"

Desolas nodded, tightening his coat from the cold, "I have, Marcell. Uh, before we head in. How has your reinstatement been?"

"It's been tough," he said, sighing a bit, "I thought I could get away from all this and retire. But then I saw a damn cruiser plunge into the heart of Nos Astra and had to fight for my life in a damn bar on Illium. I knew then I had to go back."

"It's a damn shame," Parrus added on, "We let that happen when we stood at the brink of war with what appeared to be the wrong enemy."

"We let it happen, Primarch. I'm glad you followed Fedorian and supported his reforms. They not only resonated change here, but across Council space. It will be long before we can expect anything from the Asari and Salarians. But it's coming, nonetheless."

Parrus turned to him, "Fedorian does so in defense. The Terrans are the enemy we should now should be worried about."

"This again, I see…" Toma still had a favorable view of those whom had saved Illium.

Desolas ended the side conversation, "Let us head inside, and clarify this issue once and for all. Many are here today, and I tend to justify making them all come here."

They entered the elevator and descended down to the lower levels of the Radiatum. At a bunker level, they exited and began walking towards the main meeting room, guards flanking their sides. The time had finally come. His own gambit had begun.

* * *

They entered, greeted by several dozen Hierarchy officers. Just a moment earlier, they were divided in their respective blocs, arguing as usual, but now they were in full attention to the man that had brought them here. Desolas scanned the room. General Radorian and the Traditionalist officers were in attendance, gather at the back between the two blocs. Admiral Fedorian and his Reformists were there as to his left. His own so called Radicals were at his right. Finally, Ambassador Quentius and Officials of the Hierarchy Political Bureau were on hand near him.

"Primarch. You have called us here?" asked Fedorian.

"My time is very valuable, Desolas. What is the meaning of this?" demanded Radoria.

"And to be all here in person," said Quentius, "A very unusual measure."

"A very dangerous move!" responded Radoria, "We could be attacked! Imagine the cream of the Hierarchy staff, loss in a single attack!"

Desolas raised his talon, signaling for them to stop. They all turned to him once more, waiting for his answer.

"Brothers, sisters. The time has come. The day we have waited for. The day we have spent our time planning and readying for. The day has come for our transformed nation to strike!"

Fedorian locked eyes with him, confused, "What do you mean?"

"What I mean is, we have found the very thing we have needed all along." He pulled out the OCD, showing it to everyone, "My intelligence has spent countless months decoding this. And we have found the proof. The…" he smiled, "Smoking gun, as they would say, that the Terrans are our true enemy."

"What!?"

Desolas activated the comm, patching a direct link to Primarch Cassiud on Palaven and Councilor Quentius on the Citadel. When they didn't answer, they were forced into the communication. Bypassing such security in order to force a comm was just a taste of what he was now able to do. Their holograms appeared between Radoria and Fedorian, joining the table.

"What is the meaning of… Arterius! What is the meaning of this communication?" ordered Cassiud.

Desolas turned to them and spoke emotionally and with concern. He already knew how they would react to what he was about say, "Primarch, Councilor, loyal officers of our grand Hierarchy, our imperial nation. I have come across the most distressing and horrific of news."

"Horrific of News?" asked Cassiud.

"That's it? News? What news justifies all of this?" asked Sparatus.

"Why, it's simple." He walked toward the main central table in the middle of the group and inserted the OCD, "I have proof! Proof of the treachery of the Terrans!"

The file he wanted to show played first. A holographic video of Terran President Bowman, Vice President Pierce, General Williams, Admiral Woods, and Colonel Harper appeared. From the shadows of the meeting room, a certain Turian turned his eyes to Harper, taking a good look at the man.

"Forgive me. Segments of this video are either encrypted or still corrupted. But what matters most is here. And all the files from their intelligence agencies are here as well to back up what they say."

The video played. It was the meeting just after President Bowman's first day of talks with the Council. Unbeknownst to him, and in spite his own security measures, he was being recorded the entire time. Desolas had kept some parts of the video for himself. It wasn't relevant, for the time being.

 _"Williams, where do we stand on our contingencies from Operation: Maiden?"_

 _Harper spoke instead, "As Williams directed, each course of action we can take is still open to advance on. Combined with the other actions caused between then and now, they have been rather effective in putting the Council off balance, even without our supervision."_

 _Bowman nodded, "Good. Williams, Harper. Prepare operation number 9."_

 _Williams responded, surprised by what Bowman said, "Operation: Damsel? We've reviewed the plan and are ready to execute. Are you sure you wish to do so?"_

 _Bowman nodded, "Damsel is a go!"_

"Operation Damsel?" Fedorian turned to Desolas, "What in the spirits is this 'damsel'?"

He leaned on the table and stared at him. "Why, Fedorian, this 'damsel' they speak of, it's us… they thought us weak, and they made us weak!" He swiped a file; one mislabeled as FIA rather than Section 14, and sent it to Fedorian to read. "They made us weak! And then they came, acting like big damn heroes!"

As he started skimming it, the next file began to play. It was an only audio file, two people in conversation. One was of Harper. The other was of a Quarian every Turian in the room knew all too well, even if been years since they heard his voice.

" _Now, *static* What do you know of the pirates and raiders in the Terminus systems?"_

 _"Ah, the raiders of the Terminus… *static* they're not worth one's time."_

 _"But a constant threat to the Council, the land beyond their 'Hadrian's Wall'. Their border between civility and savages. Today, that wall falls. The barbarians shall have a Rome to sack! ... We've got a comm link."_

" _So, who are we calling?"_

 _"We're gathering every pirate and raider to amass for a full assault. Operation Damsel is a go!"_

 _"Operation Damsel? We're gathering them up to attack?"_

 _"We've gathered them up, but for the opposite reason. We wired over five hundred billion credits from banks across the Council. I'm now finalizing our payment."_

 _"The opposite reason? Whom did we pay them to attack?"_

 _"We commandeered them to launch a full assault on the Asari colony of Illium,"_

 _"This is Captain Beruk."_

Harper altered voice _"It's me. Are your ships ready to move out?"_

 _"Yes, but first, there's the matter of our final payment. Organizing theses thieves wasn't cheap. Nor was prodding Council defenses."_

 _"Of course. I'm wiring the final amount right now."_

New intelligence files appeared on the table, each main officer of the different blocs synced it to their omni-tool to read. It had detailed recordings of all the financial transactions of where the Terrans obtained that wealth.

 _"I believe we are in agreement?"_

 _"Yes. We'll move out now. But how are we to get past the Council Fleet guarding the relays along the border?"_

 _"I'm sending you the instructions on how to disable the ships guarding the relays to Illium, along with Illium's private defense fleet. Use them and you'll have a clear path."_

 _"And the Council Relief Force?"_

 _"What relief force? The Terrans have forced the entire Council Fleet along the border with the Attican Traverse. Now is the time to strike at their unguarded heart!"_

"* _static* How did you get their Prefix Override Codes? I doubt even the Shadow Broker has access to this level of information."_

 _"*static* You don't need to know who I am. Do as you're told and you'll be a very rich man. Are we clear?"_

 _"Yes. You made your point. We'll be moving out now."_

 _Zaren spoke again, "You're planning an attack on Illium?"_

 _"Operation Damsel: We gather every raider and pirate in the Terminus to attack Illium, the main economic hub of galactic civilization short of the Citadel itself. With the ability to bring the Council's fleet to their knees, they'll be able to punch right through and attack the planet, the galactic market will crash and the credit will go right along with it. The Council will be in complete disarray…"_

 _"Wait, why are we doing this? Aren't we trying to get a seat on the Council?"_

 _"They won't let us join if they can see fit for them to deny us. But if we throw them off, they'll come straight to us for help and aid. And when we merge with them, we'll have them in our grasp. By the time they recover, we will have expanded by leaps and bounds, and they will be utterly dependent on us. *static* When the attack commences, the Council will panic and ask us for aid. These ships will then deploy right above Illium and save them from the pirates. *static* If we pull it off, the Council will beg us to join."_

Spartacus was he first to speak. In equally horror, he was just as much excited at what he saw. He could see all the political weapons he could make from this. And most of all, he knew know, his moment of anger last year was right. He was right all along."

"Vali knew! Those suit rats knew what the humans did! Does Derik and the Batarians know as well?"

Desolas waved his hand, "That is beside the point."

"The point is that… That…" Fedorian was lost for words. All that time he was there, being treated as a guest. All that time he was there, moaning for his son for fighting their war. The Terrans had orchestrated an entirely new war, killing millions for the sake of seizing power.

Desolas added on, "That the Terrans… that the humans…"

Admiral Toma was the one to finish his line of thought. Others were horrified, others were furious, but he stared at the table, lost. He was there when it happened. He could remember what he was doing during the same time stamp on the video. "They caused the attack on Illium… They didn't simply allow it; they planned for millions to die so they can prop themselves as heroes… like damn corivals. They tricked us all!"

"Exactly! This is the proof. This was recorded, time stamped with Terran technology! Now we know!"

Sparatus spoke, almost elated, "This is it! The evidence we need to kick these damn Terrans out of the Council!"

"It's much more," said Desolas with a chuckle, "This is the very weapon we needed. The argument to not just repel the humans and their 'Federation' of rats and slavers but to be their ultimate destruction. This is the rallying call. This is our _Casus Belli_!"

Sparatus didn't understand, "What?!"

Fedorian looked at him, stricken by what Desolas had said, " _Casus Belli_ … cause for war. What do you–?"

"You know exactly what I mean, Admiral Fedorian! This news will cause a war! They orchestrated the death of so many to rule over us. It is time we rally and strike back. What I delivered to you all is the righteous call to action! To attack!"

Primarch Cassius quickly spoke out against him. "This proof you've given us will grant us an unimaginable leverage against the Terrans. But I must remind you that we are at peace!"

"Peace?" Desolas turned to him and laughed, "We are not at peace. They fooled us into thinking that! We have always been at war! They took advantage of our division, our weaknesses in order to control us! Now we have the edge. We must strike before they learn of this breach!"

Fedorian pushed his way around the table and faced him, eye to eye, "Are you mad?"

"We are all mad. Look at what they have done!"

"You want to start a war!"

Fedorian pulled his side arm out and took aim at Desolas. In immediate escalation, so did everyone else. Desolas' radicals took aim at Fedorian's Reformists, who responded in kind. Radoria's own Traditionalists responded as well, taking aim at both sides. Each one of them divided on whom they supported. Quentius pulled his own pistol out and joined Fedorian, but gestured back at the political bureau from joining in. Standing off from one another, everyone waited. All for them waited to see what would happen.

Desolas himself simply stood there, looking at Fedorian. He was still, calm, even with a gun to his metal temple, seemingly unfazed. It was because he knew Fedorian was far from that state. Though he seemed the most set to fire, Fedorian himself noticed he wasn't able to hold his pistol up with exact precision.

Fedorian looked around the room. There were more willing to follow Desolas than him. They all wanted war, Parrus gave them a fleet. General Partinax gave them an army. Toma siding with them solidified it. And with each barrel aimed at him, it was clear. He had already lost to begin with. His work, completely squandered. His ally, revealed his worst fear. What he had done aiding the Hierarchy actually empowered them to strike when the opportunity arose.

"Why are you doing this?"

"It's simple, Admiral Fedorian." Desolas looked past his barrel and at him directly, "If we simply take this to the Council, then what? This enemy pegs us as idiots. We show this to the Council and they'll deny it. They'll fight on that podium they did not earn. And they will prove victorious. Prove their sin as a lie. And the galaxy, no matter how riled up they will be when they see this, will submit to them in the end."

Quentius kept his weapon up, "So you would bypass the Council. The Hierarchy? Go rogue and attack?!"

"Damn it, Arterius! We do not have the means to go to war with them. Their fleets are greater. Their capacity exceeds ours! You knew that the moment I began these reforms. It will be decades before we come close to matching them."

He nodded, "Normally, yes."

"Then don't throw away a few prototypes, and millions of your countryman, for this damn… _vendetta_!"

"Fedorian… Tiberius." He smiled, and then spoke louder for his side to rally behind, "I wouldn't do this if we didn't stand a chance. What I have failed to inform you of is I do have the means. The technology, the capability, to reveal that damn Terran magic for what it is! Tricks and lies!"

"You're a madman, Arterius," Quentius turned to the rest of them, "All of you are."

"It's simply politics." He raised his arm, slowly for Fedorian and his side to see, and activated his omni-tool. "Take it. Show it to the Council! Because when I lead our military, the might of our nation, against the Terrans and back that video up with a victory, there will be no resistance. The galaxy will join us against them. A new drive, a new… nation to drive them back to that dirt world they call 'Terra'!"

"Are you serious?!" Fedorian turned to the other radicals, yelling at them with fury, "If you do this, you'll be branded as traitors! You'll all drag the galaxy into war, a galaxy on fire! When this madman's plan fails, their scourge will burn this galaxy to ashes!" He kept looking around for someone who could be swayed back to him, who could sway others from Desolas. "Admiral Toma! Don't do this!"

The aged man, tired, stood there across the table. His weapon was drawn, but not aimed at anyone; he was still thinking about what he had seen. Both Fedorian and Desolas turned to look at him, each with a glare to get the man to turn to his side.

"I wonder what young Junius would have done…" He looked back up at them, "What would those who fell say of this?"

"Toma, if Arterius succeeds, the Hierarchy will be divided."

"And tell me," he asked, still looking at the table, "Look at us. Divided. Was this what it was like? When the colonies were so different that we were willing to fight each other?"

"Don't forget what unites us! We are one hierarchy! If you go with him, we descend into civil war! When he fails, there will be truly nothing to stop the Terrans from marching on Palaven. It would be over your dead body, all of your dead bodies, that our countless millennia long civilization would perish!"

"My dead body? But what of the others… What of my family?!" He trained his pistol on Fedorian. He was lost, "I'm an old man! All I wanted was to watch my grandchildren serve like their parents and grandparents before! They died trying to stop those raiders. The _Nanus' Stand_ , the _Trebia's Flash,_ and thousands more destroyed in the blink of an eye. I thought we had failed them! I thought I had to join back to finish the job. Now I know. The Terrans who so helpfully saved us, they did it! They killed them. Now I can avenge them!"

Cassiud spoke out. He had had enough of the drama and emotional motivation for this act of treason.

"This is unbelievable. Primarch, admirals, generals, I will have your gizzards for this!" he turned to Fedorian, "Fedorian, arrest them all–"

They all turned to see Desolas, who had just ended the call to the Primarch and the Councilor.

"Fedorian…" he sighed, "I figured you wouldn't believe me."

"I was wrong for trusting you this whole time!"

"Still. Here we are. You and me. Your Hierarchy, and my…" he thought about what to say, then spoke with a smile, "My nation."

"And me?" asked General Radoria.

"Oh come one now."

Desolas snapped his talons. The Traditionalist officers all looked at each other for a moment. Quickly, they all made up their mind and they turned their pistols on each other, joining the Radicalist or the Reformist at that very moment. General Radoria stated yelling at his officers, until they trained their weapons at him. He quickly stopped.

Fedorian spoke, "You're really doing this."

Toma tried to persuade him, "We've lost too much to them. Join us, Tiberius! Avenge our fallen brothers and sisters! Our sons and daughters!"

Fedorian quickly turned his gun at him, "It won't bring back Drusus! It won't bring back any of them. You! All of you! You do this and many, many more will be lost!"

"They said the same when we were refrained from marching into the Hegemony!" Toma kept his pistol aimed at it, "Junius was like a son to me. They let that madman Kavos walk away. That medal those Terrans gave you must have been the cheapest way for them to get you to ignore the fact they killed your son with that butcher of theirs! We lost so many, including our hero Junius! Avenge them, Fedorian. Mine and yours!"

"Junius, a son? A fucking son?!"

Fedorian snapped and broke into a laugh as he lowered his aim at Toma. Hearing that, that hero worship, it broke him. The sight of the otherwise serious man laughing with joy at such a time was unsettling for everyone. It added only to the already tense situation, "Junius! Our hero Junius! That stupid man you trained to one day be the Primarch?"

"Don't you dare speak ill of him!"

"You argue that I speak of not attacking the Terrans, but I argue against attacking one of their _admirals_!"

Toma looked at him, lowering his weapon in confusion, "What?"

"He's alive, you old fool!" he shouted, and all in the room heard. He waved his pistol all around as he loss his temper mate of the whole situation. "Admiral Marcus Junius is alive! Our "hero" survived the Battle of Philippi! And now, he serves… his new nation! As a Terran admiral!"

The room burst into a loud clamor, many were arguing, while they rest were in shock or denial over what he had said. But as they tried to reason why he did that or call out Fedorian as a liar, Desolas himself spoke.

"Admiral Fedorian is right," he said calmly, "Marcus Junius is alive. And he is a most loyal Terran admiral."

With Desolas' confirmation, the room dropped to an eerie silence. Toma turned to him, "But… no. Why?"

"Why? Because he is a traitor!" Deoslas turned to him, "He blames Cassiud for abandoning him. He offered to join the Terrans when they 'liberated' him. He offered them everything: his skills, his plans, his leadership to lead our brainwashed 'Terran' brothers and sisters. Look at what the humans have done." He looked to the crowd, "They turned our own against us. The galaxy's own against us! He would gladly see to it that all the Hierarchy burned just to kill that spineless Cassiud! Petty revenge."

"Speak for yourself, Primarch!" Said Fedorian.

It was the second time for everyone, and Toma, to take that kind of news in. This time, he was more withered from the news. He lowered his gun from Fedorian and backed away. But his mind was made.

Desolas turned to Fedorian. The news was as equally shocking to everyone, but Desolas' main message was still on their minds. Now, more than ever, the lines were drawn. Fedorian faced a rebellion, and an enemy he had hoped he would never have to fight against.

"Damn you, Arterius."

"What can I do? I guess, like the rest of the galaxy, I must show you why this cause is right." He turned to everyone, "This new cause," he looked back at Fedorian, "is a righteous one, a real one!"

"You won't even get off the ground. Cassiud is already sending Blackguard agents for you."

"Really. There are still some loyal to that failure of a man? Besides, as a sample of what _we_ can now do, I disabled all Hierarchy communications. Only my communications are going through."

"This can't…" He turned his head to Quentius, who was checking the comms from Fedorian's fleet in orbit. He was right.

"By the time you, he, or even Sparatus can react, we will be on our way."

"Damn it. Don't do this!"

"This is as close we've ever been to defeating them. And trust me. We are all well aware of what happens if we fail."

Everyone began to lower their side arms. Everything was set. Fedorian looked back, seeing those who remained. So many had joined. He thought he was changing minds when he began his work. His hopes were shattered. He had wanted to unite and strengthen the Hierarchy. Now he stood almost alone, at its weakest point. He was not better off. He felt just as divided. He could even ration if he was betrayed, or this was always the state he was working with.

Disappointed, he sighed, "How did we get here?"

Desolas tried one last time to get him to join. If Fedorian joined, then there would be no doubt, "You and me! We created a stronger nation. Our victory will be owed to you. History will credit you for seeing and acting to change the nation."

"History… no. History will judge me for what I do next!"

Fedorian took aim and shoved his gun in Desolas' face, ready to fire. But in a split second, he felt a cold metal tube pressed against the back of his own head. Behind him, Saren stood, a quick emergence from the shadows. Aiming his gun at him, Saren was more concerned with ensuring his original mission, but at the same time, he couldn't let his brother get ceremoniously shot in the face.

Desolas spoke as Fedorian lowered his weapon. "When history asks, why you didn't join today, do not worry. You were the one who was cautious. Who wanted to see if I was right! Well, Fedorian, that time will come. Not today, but you'll see. The Terrans were up to something. And in the end, we'll both put an end to it!"

Fedorian had lost. And though maybe no one will know it, as he looked back at the few officers and officials still on his side, he knew his failure to stop them right there and then would haunt him forever.

"It's time you leave. But you'll be back."

Desolas gestured him to the door. By the time he could get his loyal fleet ready, Desolas' forces would be on the move. Fedorian's remaining followers slowly followed him out as Desolas' own watched. Fedorian himself felt a pang in his stomach, his breath quickening as he walked away.

Desolas turned to Parrus and signaled him to open a comm to the fleets and armies under his control. Toma walked over to watch what Desolas did next. In reality, Parrus and the closest officers at his side already knew and were planning the whole time. The same recording was being played to the troops and sailors of his new military. The rest of the officers were swayed, but some were in doubt, hearing that Junius was among the enemy. Desolas wasn't fazed. Only the future concerned him.

* * *

Fedorian could hear him speak to his new military, rallying his soldiers for his own war of vengeance. He continued walking through the hallway to the elevator. He now had his own war to ready for.

" _Soldiers, Sailors, and Marines of the Grand Turian Hierarchy!_

 _This is Primarch Desolas Arterius._

 _Today, you have been provided with this recording by your commanding officers. You recognize the people in these recordings, and you know what they said._

 _It is true. This treachery… is true!"_

General Radoria rushed over to Fedorian.

"We can't allow him to do this!"

Fedorian continued looking straight on, "There is nothing more to be done."

"You should have shot him!"

"If I had fired a shot, everyone in that room would be dead. The entire Hierarchy staff, dead by their own hand."

"So you're walking away and letting him do this?"

"We are about to face a war against the Terrans. What I have left, I need ready to defend the Hierarchy."

"His death should be worth the price of all our lives to stop this insane war!"

Noticing the general himself was not armed, Fedorian upholstered his sidearm and shoved it in his chest. He took it and stopped in confusion as Fedorian continued,

"Than pay that price yourself."

" _Our brothers and sisters were their pawns!_

 _Their deaths were orchestrated by the humans and their reject allies! They plan galactic domination! They rallied savages, stabbed us in the back, and masked themselves as heroes in the great disaster of Illium!_

 _They tricked us all into thinking they are our friends, that they care for us, that they are here for our benefit!_

 _They cheated their way onto the Council!  
These pyjacks are no friends. They are rats and slavers. A plague we failed to see."_

Quentius rushed to Fedorian's side.

"Can we not rally loyal fleets to blockade them? To stop them from entering Terran space?"

"He's disabled all communications. You said it yourself. The Hierarchy is in a black out. By the time the Council and the Terrans start asking why, he will attack. If he really has those means…"

"We must warn them!"

"He most likely had Parrus and Toma blockade all outgoing relays… and even then…"

"We wouldn't tell them?"

"Why theorize what we should or could have done? We simple can't now." He almost wanted to be wrong. He feared the consequences if he was right.

" _You stand at the border. Our enemy hides their cowardice and shame, behind their 'Williams' Line'._

 _This barrier will not stop us._

 _Do not be fooled by their capability, their technology, their numbers and armament.  
They are strong, yes. But you are the finest that serves our race.  
And I give you the means to cast away the magic aurora of the Terrans._

 _We shall show them, they are no gods.  
They are but mere men!"_

As the group boarded the different elevators heading up, Radoria joined Feodrian again.

"When we get off this world, we need to head to Palaven immediately! If Arterius really has some tool to give his forces an upper hand over the Terrans…"

"Then what, General?" Fedorian turned to look at him, "Do we openly start a civil war against a force that would not only have the sympathy of the galaxy, but would out-number and possibly even out-gun us? Or do you mean to join them when he wins?!"

"The Terrans will pay for this! But so will Arterius! Do you think he really can stop them? If he fails, the evidence of Terran involvement gets nulled in a heartbeat. If he fails, we would lose nearly two-thirds of our officers!"

Fedorian nodded, "Then we'd better be worth our rank, live up to our skills. Because if he loses, we lose more than half of our entire military! The Terrans will go after us. And image _who_ they will send."

Radoria paused, realizing that fact.

"Spirits…"

" _We shall be the liberators!_

 _In their 'Federation', people of our allies,  
your own brothers and sisters of warm blue blood,_

 _They live unknowingly as slaves!  
They have been lied to, tricked, brainwashed by the humans' false cause!_

 _We must save them.  
We must liberate them.  
We must fight!"_

Desolas paused, all of his new troops hanging on his every word. The time he waited for has come. Quicker than even he had thought. He saw destiny, and he would be their leader. As his new nation, and as the officers loyal to him waited, he finished up,

" _Today, we will move out._

 _We march into the Attican Traverse. The Terrans have brought no civility to the galaxy! They spread only chaos!_

 _The time has come.  
We act because no one else will.  
Not just for us, but the entire galaxy!_

 _It is time we march forward,  
to avenge our fallen brethren.  
_ _Join me and let us hold the banner proudly!_

 _It is time we prove these humans, these red blooded 'Terrans',  
that they have no iron heart of man,  
that their Terran dream is a lie.  
That when they pitifully yell out, 'For Terra!',  
they are fighting for worthless dirt.  
_

 _While we, the ascended,  
we fight for the Cause!_

 _And our lives, we trust in it._

 _Today, we go forward._

 _Our Vendetta for the fallen shall be felt!_

 _Today, we are the Turian Nation!"_

* * *

 **Fort Bao, Shanxi  
Hours Before the End of the Interbellum**

Williams turned his chair around and stared out the window of his office. Outside, beyond the walls of Fort Bao, were the beautiful meadow fields of Shanxi. Fields of green and dots of white wild flowers scattered about. Above it was the blue sky, bluer than even of the old Earth.

He kept staring at the view, the fields, the meadows, and the cool green hills. On that world, the sun was nearing a new dawn. But he knew clouds were coming. He wondered if General Bletchley did the same to Earth. He thought to himself, _Did he see the good of the old world? Or did he just see what needed to be destroyed for its own good?_

Williams knew he had crossed the line. His finally gambit had begun. But to save the Terran gambit, it was worth the price. As much as he wished it wasn't.

"So it begins…"

* * *

 **CNN: Terra** : Headlines of the Terran Month of July and August 2168 UTC

 **July 1, 2168**  
 _Secretary of Religious Affairs Brian O'Malley and Pope Brogan III  
meet with Matriarch Tilovia of the Atamna Politeia  
following the official recognition of the Siari Religion by the DRA._

 **July 4, 2168**  
 _Terrans on Illium celebrate Liberty Day  
and the Terrans' Entrance onto the Council.  
Anti-Terran Protesters put down hard by TEF._

 **July 13, 2168  
** _Sol Fleet begins deconstruction of the Hades Mothball Yards  
after mysterious disappearance of older ships from yard.  
Admiral Donnelly blames Quarian teenagers looking for a joyride._

 **July 19, 2168  
** _FCC sends request to Senatorial Candidate Ja'hal Derik  
to stop teaching people how evade FCC surveillance equipment.  
Derik politely declines._

 **July 25, 2168** _  
Congressional Candidate Zaal Koris nearly arrested  
for not burning flag on Flag Burning Day.  
Quote from Senator Carlson:  
"What kind of patriot doesn't burn our magnificent flag,  
Old Blue, on this day? Its un-resilient of him!" _

**August 1, 2168  
** _Political analyst still waits for President Bowman  
to announce his run for reelection.  
Currently holds 67% approval rating._

 **August 3, 2168  
** _Council Spectre Relin Kolas gunned down by local police on Earth.  
Council files complaint with Terran Government,  
who defends police action, saying,  
"We shot the target he was looking for also!"_

 **August 8, 2168** _  
Cal students chase guest Salarian professor off campus.  
Claims he was an 'Alien Nazi scientist'.  
Renowned Dark-Energy Physicist Professor Conrad Verner  
injured trying to stop mob._

 **August 16, 2168** _  
Ambassador Wyatt returns to Tuchanka.  
Krogan ambassador of Nakmor Clan  
demands that the human ambassador isn't  
a 'genetically-engineered soldier' or 'Australian.'_

 **August 20, 2168  
** _Councilor Sparatus and Councilor Goyle  
walk out today after failed negotiations  
over border disputes and the Treaty of Firxen._

 **August 28, 2168** _  
Turian Hierarchy breaks Warp Factorial 5 Barrier  
as Salarians successfully launch Warp vessel _Mannovai _.  
'Bleeding Edge' doctrine slowing Salarians down,  
As Terrans double down on 'Transwarp' technology._

* * *

 _ **BBC: Terra**_ _: Political News: July 4, 2168_

 _ **Senate Hearing with FCC over  
the 'disappearance' of several million citizens  
has come to a close**_

 _While most Terrans are enjoying the day celebrating Terran freedom and liberty, the Senate Committee on Interior Matters has ended a month long hearing with the Federal Communications Committee. Called to Arcturus was FCC Agency Executive Edward Ledgett, speaking to a senate committee that consisted of Senator William Francis (N), John Carlson (F), Rashmi Nikita (I), Desta Mojisola (U), and headed by Katenka Jekaterina (F)._

 _In the hearing, Senator Francis and Senator Mojisola questioned Ledgett over a report by the CBI that several million human-Terrans have disappeared from the monitoring of the FCC 'Guardian Angel' surveillance program. Established in 2150 after the Great Revival, the Guardian Angel program has been credited as having safe guarded Terran domestic affairs. Since its passing, crime has dropped by 70%, due in part to increased conviction rates of 30% in all crimes committed, with surveillance being used as evidence in what would normally be cold cases. Analysis from both sides has agreed that the main program headed up by the FCC has increased Terran safety more than ever before in human history. This potential invasion of privacy has become a hot topic issue since Senate Candidate Ja'hal Derik entered the political arena._

 _In a recent report last year, the FCC reported that over 99% of humans are under the program, with 98% of all Quarians and 39% of all Batarians under surveillance. It has been noted the many Batarians have been successful in evading the FCC, thanks to learned tactics by the resistance from before the Blitz. It is also blamed on the fact the FCC is still using old Hegemony spy equipment and have yet to fully modernize former Hegemony territory with more advanced Terran technology._

 _In the hearing, Ledgett admitted that the FCC was not sure how a million humans managed to elude advanced surveillance equipment. Across the unified Internet, many humans have disappeared, with many government documents of their existence deleted while their social and online presences were virtually gone overnight. Back up records indicated this to have happened to nearly 1,700,000, with an estimate of 300,000 more. In a testimony by a friend of a 'missing' human, they reported the person was acting abnormal, but not enough to set off AI detection. They also stated that the humans who disappeared had anti-alien sentiment, like many more. Later evidence indicates this only being evident of half of those who disappeared. But many held anti-government views._

 _Senator Nikita has pointed out that the FCC has seen a lower amount of government dissent, as if it was being purposefully hidden to avoid attention. This ended up spreading the government's worst fear that the newest rebel group may have learned how to circumvent the FCC and is recruiting human supremacists and anti-Federation rebels._

 _Carlson has pointed out that such an idea is farfetched. He cited that more advanced intelligence radar, such as the FIA, Military Intelligence, and the FCC more detailed 'Hoover Report' surveillance program, would have caught wind of a rebel build up. Ledgett was warned however that such programs are not guaranteed and that the Federation has suffered numerous Code Snowden in the past few years, with 2168 set to be the largest on record, in spite of greater security. He advises more upgrades be made to examine current methods._

 _By hearing's end, Senator Carlson and Senator Jekaterina concluded that the loss of millions from the FCC's watch was due to negligence on the part of the FCC, which Ledgett and Senator Francis denied. The others from the Unionist and Independent Bloc were also very unhappy with the hearing's conclusion. No word yet on what will be done to find the million plus humans that are no longer being tracked._

* * *

 _ **Salarian Intelligence Report**_ _; From: STG Agent Solus – To: STG Lieutenant Kirrahe;_ _ **Description**_ _: Hypothetical War between the Turian Hierarchy and the United Terran Federation; Terran Date: August 5, 2168_

 _Councilor, I have completed my study and observation. For the past six months, I have been touring the Federation, observing their public cultural and social aspects. During this time, I have also conducted observation and recon on the military strength of the Federation, looking in detail of both public records and those obtained during reconnaissance. This particular report will discuss a possible play out of a major conflict between the United Terran Federation, and the Turian Hierarchy, whom have led the way in militarizing against them._

 _ **Strength Status:**_

 _Hierarchy_

 _Naval Count: 38,000 main combat ships; 3000 support ships;_

 _60,000,000 Personal_

 _Army/Marine Count: 250,000,000 Active; 3,000,000,000 Reserve_

 _Since Contact, the Turian Hierarchy has been united in public but divided in private in their general reaction to the Terran Federation's potential threat. For smaller client races, they have taken the opportunity to bolster their own military to supplement their protection by the Hierarchy. The Volus have led that effort. Elkoss Combine has successfully reverse engineered some of the ship building techniques utilized by the Federation and have built five new dreadnoughts, and nearly thirty new battle cruisers for the Hierarchy. Their newest ship, under Protectorate and Hierarchy control, appears to employ a brand new weapon, but they have been successful in hiding information on it so far. Recent internal observation suggests they are focusing primarily on duplicating Terran Warp and Hyperdrive technology._

 _For their Army and Marine count, Turian ground forces remains the definitive might of the galaxy. While it seems the Turians are still in the process of matching the Terrans' naval might, they maintain a superior groundside force. On average, the standard Turian conscript with four years training can easily best a Terran recruit of comparable length of training. Each soldier is likely to be more experienced than their Terran counterpart. Though their battle doctrine prevents adaptive tactical action, they still give individual troop units greater coordinative firepower; meaning they have far greater attack power to deployment cost ratio than the Terrans. They still have a far greater number of active duty soldiers and reserve in potentially billions, though it would take years to fully activate them._

 _Federation_

 _Naval Count: 77,500 main combat ships; 9000 support ships; 110,000,000 Personal_

 _Army/Marine Count: 54,000,000 Active; 10,000,000 Reserve (As National Guard)_

 _The Federation Navy maintains superior numbers and is actively building up. Since joining the Council, it has commissioned five new fleets. Their new potential ship count will reach far larger numbers than we could ever field. However, at the moment, ship production has been slowed, based on captured reports of delays at the main fleet yards. The government has levied too much debt from the expansion. In fact, most of the debt from its initial build up has been sold off to the Volus. At present, the overall ship count remains the same since Contact. They have, by raw statistics, greater offensive power._

 _The Terran Army and Marines still lag behind considerably to the Turians. They have a smaller overall force and have little in the way of reserves, which actively serve as a defensive force. Ground technology like armor and equipment are behind their Turian counterpart. Unlike Turians, however, they focus on combined adaptive tactics in tactical situations. They have integrated biotic support, giving individual fighting squads greater support. Biotic, or 'Kinetic' count is far higher than the Turians, and the average biotic can outmatch a far less developed Turian biotic cabal soldier. Like their Turian counterpart, the Terran Army and Marines are trained for a specific doctrine. Marines are a purely offensive force used to take planets and are comparable to both the Turian Army and Marine Force. The Army, though properly equipped and trained, are built not to fight opposing armies but defend against similar Marine forces, and to occupy and suppress population zones. But unlike Turians, individual troop units have far greater tactical training and can operate far better than Turians with a lack of command oversight. However, since each unit lacks direct access to major support firepower, they would need to rely on greater troop combat adaptability to supplement the lack of firepower to deployment cost ratio._

 _ **Naval Doctrine**_ _:_

 _Hierarchy_

 _Turian Navy is still able to focus their full fleet count in full, concentrated attacks. Recovered plans indicate they would charge the relays to attack the Terrans. Primary goals include challenging the Terrans in open naval combat on their terms. Turian cruiser guns have considerable range compared to other races, and especially over the Terrans. However, intelligence suggests they have yet to devise an effective tactic against the large amount of spacecraft the Terran employ, but they have shifted their priority targeting to aircraft carriers over short range battle cruisers. Logistics core has been underdeveloped since the rebellion and can hamper long-term campaigns._

 _Federation_

 _In spite of their large size and FTL capabilities, the Terrans lack the ability to coordinate their entire Navy in one full-scale attack. The Terran Second Fleet's deployment into the Batarian Hegemony is an exception, and the Sol Fleet's deployment during their Great Revival as a proof of inability. However, the Terrans have a superior logistics system and can fight from supply lines for a greater duration. Likewise, each fleet is fully capable of operating with all the needed support in-house. Doctrine places using aircrafts to both supplement greater numbers and as main power forward to fight in short range combat. Are rather dependent on it since their larger ships lack decent maneuvering._

 _ **War Plan Point of Interest**_

 _Turian Offensive:_

 _The Turians must strike quickly and deeply into Terran territory. Expected casualties are high. In space, the Terrans can quickly deploy ships for counter offensives and rally for defensive positions. Planet side, the Terran defensive Army would be overwhelmed. Absolute Turian numerical superiority is needed groundside, alongside total orbital control. Terran civilian militias are trained, unlike Turian 'civilians', for guerrilla-style warfare, and Army is trained to fight not only against such tactics, but to disband and fight in the event open combat is no longer viable. Though the Terrans will most certainly lose planets with ease, the Turians will incur increasing casualties holding and occupying them._

 _Adaptive naval tactics are needed. The Turians, in spite of new ship types and technological breakthroughs, must rely on existing fleets to divide and overwhelm Terran ships to win. Likewise, they must maintain distance and severely outrange the Terrans to fight. Aircraft carriers are the backbone of the Terran Navy; destroying them would be a tactical blow. However, their large 'Flagships' have become symbolic might and scoring a kill on them would hurt them strategically and morally._

 _Must strike the heart of the Federation as soon as possible. Unlike Turians, Terrans are not capable of attrition warfare. This is shown by their history, of how nations with superior firepower lost wars due to prolonged warfare. If they attack a place of significant importance, like Earth or their new capital of Arcturus, Terrans may be willing to surrender. But if a war stalls too long and they are on the defensive, attrition will no longer be a factor. Could potentially be willing to rally their entire population with the same will as the Turians. If Turian offensive stalls too long, Terrans will overwhelm them with superior industrial might._

 _Terran Offensive:_

 _Either as the aggressor or in a counter attack, a war with the Turians may not be as straightforward. The war with the Batarians is more of an exception than a fact. Though the Terrans can destroy the Turian Fleet in open and close quarter combat, they would incur high casualties and add to an attrition level of their civilian populace's willingness to fight. The Turians are an experienced military and can fight the Terrans on equal footing if they adapt._

 _Planet side, the Terrans will need absolute air supremacy and orbital control to stand a decent chance against Turian ground forces. Turian wars have taught the Turians to withstand orbital bombardment; their armies are more resilient. There exists no real concept of a 'civilian', meaning the Terrans will be facing an open fight against nearly every Turian they face. Unlike Terran civilian fighters, Turian civilian fighters are nearly all former soldiers and will be better equipped and trained for open combat. The Terran Marines would be expected to create a large beachhead for the Army. Otherwise, they would be driven off the planet. My best analysis is the Terrans will only be able to take remote colonies. Core worlds will be nearly impossible for them to take without major effort and numbers, let alone occupy without vastly increasing troop count._

 _Turian forces would prevent a quick assault to demoralize the Hierarchy to surrender. Near loss of home world to Krogan, but kept fighting on. Terrans will have to demonstrate outright dominance in all theaters of war to just make the Turian command consider surrendering. Destroying their fleet would help, but nothing less than a clear message that they could destroy the home world might force surrender. While it is likely for the Turians to resort to a strategy of sacrificing their own home world, given history, the Terrans would lack support at home to do so. At any rate, while the Terran can economically and physically support a long term war, they would be politically inclined to sue for peace just as quickly as in the situation the Turians achieved quick naval victory in the offensive._

 _Note:_

 _In any case, this still doesn't account that the Council would, in all likelihood, aid the Turians in any event against the Terrans. But I must point out that a war of that scale would require far more research to draw any conclusions._

* * *

 _ **BBC News: 2168 Non-Partisan Index Rating for Democracy, Freedom, and Economic Opportunity.**_

 _ **Democratic Rating**_ _  
(Out of six Major races)_

 _Breakdown: Access to voting; Clear Voting Laws; Free and Un-coerce vote;_

 _ **#1 Asari Republics:**_ _#1; #1, #3_

 _Remarks: Highest Ranking Democracy. Near universally regarded as the beacon of galactic democracy. Its Over-the-Extranet voting process makes voting simple and convenient to all citizens. Their voter laws are lax and easy to interpret. Coerce votes unheard of on Thessia, but more common on colony worlds, like Nevos or the former colony of Illium, thanks to minimal rules preventing it._

 _ **#2 Illuminated Primacy:**_ _#2; #2; #6_

 _Remark: High Democracy rating, especially for a technical Theocracy. Laws are clear, if restricting in some aspects. Strong cultural presence makes voting against the majority opinion low. Uses a voting mechanism similar to the Asari._

 _ **#3 United Terran Federation:**_ _#4; #6, #1_

 _Remark: In spite of having the most advanced communication technology, voting is still slow and traditionally based, relying on and requiring physical attendance at voting stations to vote. Conflicting voting laws on both the local, state, and federal level make exact rulings difficult for the average person to learn, and there are actively pending cases in the Supreme Court that openly violate the Constitution, including one glaring issue where it is technically both mandatory and illegal to vote for all Terran citizens. Culturally, Terrans are known to be open on who they vote for and anti-persecution voting laws are the only election laws that are clear in interpretation._

 _ **#4 Salarian Union:**_ _#3; #3; #5_

 _Remark: Though technically democratically structured, laws and cultural aspects make voting more figurative. While laws allow large legibility for running for office, most who run are the matriarchs of political families. Family structures make it that people vote on such lines, and threats to not do so have been known to be carried out. There exists an investigation by an Asari-Terran committee on alleged use of STG agents to sway voters._

 _ **#5 Council of Dekuuna:**_ _#5; #4; #2_

 _Remark: An Oligarchy of Council Elders. They have a lower position on the scale due to the fewer number of positions that are democratically chosen, but conservative laws physically tied to cultural evolution makes elections both rare, slow in processing, and impractical. In ratio to other powers, coercion is low._

 _ **#6 Turian Hierarchy:**_ _#6; #5; #4_

 _Remark: Is not a democracy on the main level. Client races under Hierarchy rule do practice democracy, but the lack of underlining culture from the Turians means these elections are not of a high-ranking democracy._

* * *

 _ **Freedom Rating  
**_ _(Out of Four Council Races)_

 _Rating: Total Freedom, Regulated Freedom, Suppressed Freedom, No Freedom_

 _ **#1 Turian Hierarchy: Total Freedom**_

 _Remark: Cultural and political structures place near absolute focus on an individual's ability to serve the state. Low number of personal laws and lack oversight given meritocratic performances means citizens have near absolute freedom in their personal actions and conduct. These actions simply may not interfere with social and work obligations. General order forms a militarized background where most citizens are naturally restricted in spite of having near total freedom._

 _ **#2 Asari Republics: Total Freedom**_

 _Remark: Nearly tied with Hierarchy. The Asari have open access and legal protection to express and discuss their thoughts and ideas with no legal ramifications. Old preexisting laws and religious texts do still come into effect, though the policy of law remains, 'Modern Law of State over Ancient State of Church'. This becomes problematic since freedoms exist to try and restrict others. Open society means only basic common laws are in effect._

 _ **#3 United Terran Federation: Regulated Freedom**_

 _Remark: The humans and Terran people are historically known to be divisive on numerous topics, promoting government intervention to protect the peace, then promptly complaining when the government takes such actions. Efforts to protect both collective and individual freedoms meant that government actions were taken to enforce laws that subsequently restricted rights from the other. This means that while basic freedoms are fully protected, large conflicting laws make detailed expression of any particular right difficult to interrupt as protected and restricted without mediation._

 _ **#4 Salarian Union: Suppressed Freedom**_

 _Remark: Heavy cultural emphasis on social structure limit what most may do. Cultural learning naturally limits the full options most could actually pursue, though Union laws would state otherwise. This is somewhat biologically based though._

* * *

 _ **Economic Opportunity Rating  
**_ _(Out of Four Council Races)_

 _Rating: Wealth for All; Wealth for Some; Wealth for the 1%_

 _ **#1 Salarian Union: Wealth for All**_

 _Remark: A pseudo-socialist society. On the home world and main colonies, laws ensure fair market competition with adequate social care. Large diplomatic forces are usually in place to aid negotiations with more capitalist nations and races. Advanced social care and support also considered a biological need for them._

 _ **#2 Turian Hierarchy: Wealth for Some**_

 _Remark: Hierarchy structure and culture places more emphasis on civil duty and militarization than economics. Rich Turians tend to be those who are inherently better at economics than others. Well-structured healthcare and social care for the sick and old, but can be inadequate in certain situations due to generalized coverage. Client races face little economic obstacle laws otherwise and can expand as desired, given they pay into Hierarchy coffers._

 _ **#3 United Terran Federation: Wealth for Some**_

 _Remark: Conflicting laws that change constantly in the short life span for the Federation has created a situation where concentrated wealth and monopolies exist alongside the wealth distribution systems and extensive social and health care systems. Though poverty no longer exists, government regulated systems essentially punishes people for being poor or rich. Favors the middle and only the middle class. A self-described 'Capitalistic-Socialist' nation._

 _ **#4 Asari Republics: Wealth for 1%**_

 _Remark: Though advanced social and healthcare exist for all, practices laissez-faire economics that concentrates wealth and potentially endangers customers. However, the largest economy in the galaxy has made it that even the poorest person is relatively wealthier than the middle class in other nations._

* * *

 **Citadel Council Special Tactics and Reconnaissance: Saren Arterius – Intercepted Private Communications –** Target: General of the First Army Pontius Partinax; Colonial Primarch Desolas Arterius **– Subject: Special Item of Interest –** Terran Date: August 30, 2168

 _Primarch Arterius,_

 _As you have requested of me, I have deployed a trusted group of my personal guard to this meeting spot. I must say, sending them to that deserted ice world of Lattesh is a very unusual move. It reminds me of something Junius did involving the Quarians. I wish you would have informed me of why you sent them there this time around. My guards nearly shot down the damn transport shuttle of the group they were apparently meeting when they arrived!_

 _For some Batarian thugs, my major reported they were awfully… polite. An exchange? You could not even tell me this was an exchange? And you could have told me. The true payment was already handled. They just wanted payment for expenses to cover transport. And the weird thing of it all? They asked for a rather fair price. And I point this out because my men still had to sell military hardware to them since they did not carry any form of usable currency._

 _But I digress. They have brought back what you wanted. It was fully sealed in a twenty-five meter by forty-meter steel crate, with what my scanners could only read was nearly ten meters of lead lining for what could only be an object that takes up only ten by twenty. I understand there are private manners you attend to. But I address my concern, both as your close confidant, friend, and ally in the Army._

 _As requested, I have arranged with Admiral Parrus to have it sent to the Radiatum on Taetrus. With it, I wash my hands of this task. I hope whatever this is aids in your efforts to strengthen our Turian nation. Still, whether you tell me or not, I do not mind in the end. Primarch, I trust your judgment. But I hope you trust mine as well._

 _I also noticed you have just sent a request for a meeting with your inner circle. Maybe after you have informed us of whatever this is, shall we meet for a drink? With another of Fedorian's battlecruisers being launched, I can only think of the new future we are building for our race. We make not just the Hierarchy strong, but the galaxy strong against the Terran menace._

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/

 _UTF! UTF! We're number...  
_ _Wait... we're only number three?  
_ _Oh screw it._

 _UTF! UTF! We're Number Three! We're Number Three!_

* * *

Hey Everyone!

Thank you all for reading!  
A happy Independence Day (or Liberty Day)  
to everyone out there!

Apologies for the long delay. I was hoping summer would increase writing.  
But apparently, that was not the case.  
But rest assured, the chapters are on the way,  
as the great Vendetta begins!

So thank you once again.  
Your support and readership is very greatly appreciated!  
Please feel free to review and comment.  
I'm welcome all constructive comments, for I always aim to improve my writing!  
If you got any questions, always feel free to add it to review, or PM me.  
I be glad to answer!

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\


	31. 30: The Vendetta

**Chapter Thirty: The Vendetta**

* * *

The Vendetta! Oh, what a time that was. Primarch Arterius gave us a just cause. He gave the whole galaxy a _causa belli_! There was no doubt in our then, young, impressionable minds. The Terrans, the humans, they were the enemy! When we heard the rallying cry, of course we stood ready to join in the first wave. We crossed Williams' Line, and marched to fight their Guardian of the Bear. The Terran bear shall fall, we thought to ourselves. Oh, but a line we most certainly crossed.

We thought Fedorian was naïve. If Toma himself thought it was righteous, if he had the will, the _Will of the Titans,_ we knew we must fight. So, fight we would, and did. For a while, the war, the victories we achieved, it seemed surreal; like destiny was on our side. As the Terrans themselves would say, the Primarch and the Admiral kicked down the gates of hell, and we charged right in!

Spirits… we really did charge into hell itself. It was hell for everyone. And I only made it out, thanks to the devil himself…

 **Turian Hierarchy General of the First Army Silius Invectus in an interview of the opening of the Great Autumn War for History Channel's The Forrest Accord: Nation, Scourge, and Sacrifice.** 2178

* * *

It was a vendetta. That's what they called it. Oh, they were angry. Everyone was angry. Those who joined the Nation… and those who joined Cerberus. They thought they were in the right. And they most certainly had the might to back it up. How could we be so blind? This new nation had emerged to challenge us. This monster of the past has come back to haunt us. If nothing else, we most certainly created them.

The Battle of Shanxi was a wakeup call. The Skyllian Blitz was nothing compared to this. It felt like something out of the Revival. This was an enemy who knew how to fight and beat us, that could have been truly righteous and marched over us. We fought and bled from there to Arcturus. They grew stronger by the day; we fell apart, each day a disaster, each day was a killer blow that no one expected us to recover from. We sacrificed… oh, I know. We sacrificed everything to come back from the brink.

And in the end, we were resilient. And it's why we now celebrate, not merely commemorate, that resiliency.

 **Terran Secretary of Defense and Retired Marine General Hector Paris in an interview of the "Vendetta" portion of the Great Autumn War for History Channel's The Forrest Accord: Nation, Scourge, and Sacrifice.** 2178

* * *

 **Part 1:**

 **Town of Bao, Shanxi  
First Day of the Turian Vendetta  
First Day of the Great Autumn War  
An hour before Zero Hour  
September 4, 2168 06:00:00 UTC**

"Decmius! Breakfast is ready!"

The young Turian boy came running down the stairs of their wooden, American colonial style house. Around his neck dangled a single 'Silver Bishop' quarter on a long piece of polymer string. He jumped the last few steps and touched down into the living room and ran to the kitchen. Inside, his parents were waiting for him.

"Morning Mom, morning Dad."

Sitting at the table, his father Pelius sat at the table. He turned to the kid as he sat down.

"Slept in again, I see?" He chuckled.

His mother, Yana, walked over from the counter with a plate of scrambled Turian Roblin eggs, and a few cut wedges of Quarian Poplins, a sweet and sour fruit once used to give flavor to food paste on the Fleet. She placed them on the table and sat down with them.

"A boy his age needs his sleep." She leaned over and rubbed her forehead against his. He tried to resist in embarrassment, but gave in to the Quarian sign of affection, "How is my little Dec?"

"I'm good," he said, smiling at her, "Can we eat now?"

"I second that," said Pelius as he turned to the meal, "I swear, Yana. You were always a far better cook than Perwan."

"You're the best cook ever, Mom!" said Decmius.

She giggled to herself, "It pays to be the only source of food for you two. Now let's eat."

Out the kitchen window was the town of Bao. It was located just downhill from Fort Bao, the central command center for Shanxi. It was mid-morning and the town was quiet, a car or two flying by but the streets were empty. Some of the kids were running about. Others were leaving for work in the capital of Pingyao. But the weekend brought a tranquil and peaceful morning to the border world. The day was cool, the clouds were out, but it was sunny through the breaks.

With the breaks came the news from beyond the blue skies of Shanxi. As they ate, they turned to the TV in the living room, looking past the counter dividing it and the kitchen. The news was on, talking about current events.

" _Reports still indicate a massive communications blackout across Hierarchy Space and in certain adjoining systems. With lack of information, from diplomatic ties and military reports, the Terran military have taken a proactive stance, moving the fleets to full stand by. Admiral Donnelly has assured the press that the procedure is standard, and that there is no indication of danger. In spite of calls by several congressional representatives, President Bowman has yet to call a full press debriefing of the event, nor has Citadel Councilor Goyle called the Council into session._

" _In related news, the blackout has also cut important market communications with the rest of Hierarchy, including the markets on Irune. The Citadel markets have all opened with a drop as sharp as 5%, with analysis fearing the cause of this blackout…_ "

Yana turned to Pelius, "What do you think is happening?"

He shrugged it off, "Must be some breakdown in communications. They have been rushing their conversion to hyperspace systems. The damn barefaced idiots must have accidently blown out their entire network."

Decmius turned to him, "I remember there was an extranet blackout last year when I was on the Citadel. Are the Terrans causing it?"

"We aren't at war. If the military is ready for the defense, if this is some tactic, then we didn't do it. But it makes no sense for the Hierarchy to pull this stunt in front of the whole galaxy!" He took a bite of his eggs, "It's too obvious."

Yana took a bite of her Poplin wedge, "But don't concern yourself about that, Dec. Nothing will come from it..."

They continued eating and Decmius quickly forgot about it. As he finished up breakfast, a human friend of his poked his head through the window of their kitchen from the small yard outside.

"Pidgey!" yelled his friend as he waved an American football through the window, "Down to play with us?"

Decmius turned to Yana, "Can I go play outside now?"

Yana giggled, "Ask your father."

He quickly turned his head, "Dad, can I go play football with them?"

He reached and grabbed another egg from the plate, "Just play safe, okay? You don't want to be damaging your spikes getting hit in the head."

"Sure thing. Thanks, Dad. Thanks for breakfast, Mom."

He got out of his seat and rushed to the door. The two looked out the window as he joined his friends on the empty street.

Yana turned to Pelius, "It's so nice that he has adapted to living here."

He reached for his cup of coffee, a special dextro blend, "It's nice for us all. Shanxi is no Camala."

"True…" She pondered about it, "Have you considered taking him back home? Raise him the Turian way?"

"What?" He placed his cup down, "What way? Those barefaced bastards abandoned him! They abandoned us! There…" He sighed, "There was no future for him there. He has one here. With the Terrans."

"And with us?"

Pelius reached and grabbed her hand, "And with us."

* * *

 **Part 2:**

 **Starbase 127  
Fifteen Minutes before Zero Hour  
September 4, 2168 06:45:00 UTC**

In the command room, the staff was already on high alert. Traffic was relatively light. Council merchant ships were still coming and going through Relay 314A, one of two relays connecting the system to the galaxy. It connected to an open cluster under Council control, one belonging to the Salarians, and two held by the Turians. But it had been hours since the communications blackout began in Hierarchy Space. No ship was reporting in.

"Status, Mr. Feng," said Commodore Huang. He stood on the platform above, overlooking the entire control room of the station.

The Communications officer checked the console. "Comm buoys and hyperspace beacons are reading no comms coming from the Hierarchy relays connecting to 314A; as per ordered by command, the Flotilla is holding position at relay 319B on the other side of the system."

From an elevator, several more officers and crewmen arrived and rushed to their next assignment. Another officer entered and reported to the Commodore. The entire room was buzzing with more activity, but there was nothing new from the Navy or word from Arcturus on the situation, besides standard procedure. All orders were to simply stay in standard defensive positions. Official diplomatic ties were indicating no real cause for alarm, and all military intelligence reports were being rerouted through General Williams and Command. They all indicated no build up beyond expected projections. At last surveyed, it would take the Turians approximately a day to fully rally their fleets in one location. Only over six hours had gone by. But those were old estimates, and old rules of preparation.

"Lieutenant Long, any word from Command?" asked the Commodore to the officer.

"Nothing new." He handed him a report, "This blackout seems consistent to what happened when we disabled their communications systems last year. Little to no comm activity reported. Council records indicate that relay activity came to a near stop in ship travel until emergency systems were restored. Standing orders for Hierarchy ships are to hold position or fall back to their home system if deemed necessary. Maybe the same is happening again."

The Commodore raised an eyebrow, noticing he had slipped.

"I thought we were _not_ responsible for that?"

The Lieutenant chuckled, "Of course not. But the Turian system is as redundant as a Krogan. Whatever is causing this was no accident, even with their new hyperspace systems. Without active Naval surveillance, we won't know."

The Commodore thought about it as he stared out the viewports, the relay a distant dot in the void, Shanxi in the corner of his eye.

"It just seems so weird. They're as silent as the void itself. And if this wasn't an accident on their systems..."

"Could be sabotage from within," commented Comm Officer Feng, "Maybe an internal war? Coup or revolt?"

The Lieutenant scoffed at the idea, "Those birds are as solid as rock, even after we showed up." He smirked, "I'd be more worried about ourselves and Election Day on Tuesday. The Nationalists haven't had this much power since Anderson."

"Democracy in action. But still, the Turians would never leave themselves completely open to attack like this. But we'll wait for orders from Command. Until then Lieutenant, keep eyes on the relay and anything from it. This blackout could mean anything!"

"Yes, sir."

"Feng, continue with procedure. Have an active QEC line to Command kept open. Double the inspection for all ships coming in and going out of that relay. Alert the _Van Allen's Shield_ and the _Forest of the Ardennes,_ andkeep the Flotilla on alert. Send word for the _Belgium_ and the _Verdun_ to launch from docks. Whatever the hell is going on in Hierarchy Space, it could easily spill over into ours."

"Yes, sir… Word from the Second Fleet in Arcturus. They have been authorized to move into position. They will be ready to transwarp in thirty minutes."

"I hope we don't need it."

Williams' Line was ready for the worse. Something greater than that was coming.

* * *

 **Fort Bao  
Five Minutes before Zero Hour**

"Copy complete. Neural levels are nominal."

Williams opened his eyes, gasping for air. His console indicated that the copy was complete. He sat up in his seat and pulled off the wires taped to his head. Connected to it and his desk computer was a special Section 14 device, built from the schematics of a very old and now very forbidden, piece of Quarian tech. Two OCDs popped out from a slot. One day, someone close to him would see what was truly on it. Williams' own words, to say the least, on what led to the next few minutes.

He took the OCDs and placed it in his pocket. He pulled out his pistol, his famed personal firearm. An old Colt Single Action Army Revolver; the famed Peacemaker, with the initials of another person who once owned the weapon, 'GSP'. He took his time, loading a round into each chamber. The barrel itself had a small attachment, a clear modification that seemed to extend out and wrap the barrel with some special wiring. After, he turned his gun and looked at the bottom of the handle. Pushing the trigger guard in, the brass bottom slid open, revealing a small, hidden chamber. He nodded and closed it once more.

His office phone went off. He holstered his weapon and stood up to put on his holster straps. He looked around his office one more time then turned his eyes up. For all the planning, all the scheming, there was never any true timetable for all of this. He'll get what he wants in the end. But now, he is at the mercy of his plan as is everyone else.

He picked up his phone, a direct line from the command center within the base, "General Williams speaking…"

* * *

 **Starbase 127**

"Relay 314 has repositioned… it's now facing towards Hierarchy Space."

The Commodore walked down to the next level and stood over him to see. On the massive panoramic viewport, several holographic graph screens displayed the information for everyone over the physical view.

"Ship activity…" He looked closer as he thought about it, "Now let's see what this blackout is all about."

After a few seconds, a Turian ship left the mass-free corridor of space and appeared half a thousand clicks from the relay.

"A ship has just come from the relay. Silhouette and IFF readings…" The Sensor Officer reconfirmed his initial reading, "Yes. Turian Hierarchy Naval Vessel… a few more have just left the relay."

"Open all comms!" ordered the Commodore. He wanted answers now. "Hierarchy Vessel. This is Terran Starbase 127. You have entered Federation Space. State your intent immediately!"

There was no response. In a few short seconds, about a few dozen Turian vessels appeared at the relay, all maintaining radio silence. They were clearly of the new Turian Battlecruiser design, the general schematics of which had been since retrieved by Terran intelligence and distributed to each major base and staff officer. They looked like birds-of-prey, their predecessors, but were sleeker for the special technology they were carrying. But these cruisers had something special, something Fedorian failed to learn from his 'ally'. And it was something no Terran, save for one man, knew about.

"I repeat! Turian vessels, you are not authorized to enter our space. State intent immediately!" He turned to his comms officer, "Send this recording to Arcturus. If they want to blame someone for this diplomatic incident, it sure as hell won't be us."

A moment later, the ships quickly began accelerating towards the base. On the massive GUIs, zoomed in images of the ships showed them heading for their position. Then, they vanished altogether from the sensors; the light delay on screens caught up and showed them disappear in a distortion of space.

"They…" Feng checked his screens again, signaling others in the command room to clarify. One of his secondary screens glitched for a moment, but he paid it no mind, "They're gone, sir."

"Sensors?" asked Huang.

"Nothing. But I am reading some residual radiation around the area."

"Radiation?"

"It's… no, it's…" He received confirmation from the others manning the sensory array station, "It's Cooper radiation. Nearly five hundred millicoopers!"

The Lieutenant quickly ran over to him upon hearing that. He looked over at his console.

"That's impossible! Only full hyperdrive engines could create that amount of…"

The relay then began to flash. Commodore Huang and Lieutenant Long looked up at the screens as Feng checked his own. Dozens of Turian ships of standard configuration came out from the corridor, quickly gathering into formation.

"More ships coming in…" Feng turned back to the Commodore, "Sir, this is it! A flotilla of Turian vessels. Standard battle formation. Four more just appeared at the relay."

The Commodore quickly yelled out, "Battle stations! Contact the Second and Arcturus, we have confirmation!"

"Readings say two thousand ships and counting." He loaded the main tactical displays onto the viewport GUI, "It's a full fleet! They're surging the relay!"

The Commodore rallied the station, "Send an alert to General Williams and the colonial government. Began civilian evac of the station…"

"Two Turian fleets are now heading for us. They will be in effective range in two minutes." He checked another screen, full hyperspace sensors online, "Confirm, they have troop transport."

The Lieutenant turned to the others, "Rally the Sol Fleet Flotilla. We need to intercept them before they reach the station. And find out what happened to those first ships."

"Hyperspace scanners to max. Every buoy we have is pinging."

The Commodore stared out the panoramic viewport, looking at the approaching Turian fleet. He took a deep breath and exhaled, keeping his nerves firm. But as the red emergency lights flashed throughout the station, he couldn't help but look out in fearful awe.

"My God... this is war."

"Why are they attacking?" asked the Lieutenant. He pointed at a tactical officer, "Bring Shanxi Orbital Defense online. We can't let them rush to invade the planet."

"Why? Why like this? They should know we'd be ready…"

Feng turned back to them, "The Second has been alerted! ETA twenty minutes!"

As they prepared planetary defenses, as they rushed to prepare for full war, a few lights began flickering in the command center. A few more consoles glitched, but it was quick and unnoticeable. They continued working, coordinating all space traffic as the AIs brought Shanxi's orbital cannons online. Down in the core of the station, thousands of quantum entangled particle manipulators were interfacing to send data back to command. But the data sent and received were not Terran.

* * *

 **Fort Bao  
Zero Hour**

Harper looked out the shuttle doors as it circled around the base towards the landing pad. The entire base was in a fury as everyone below rushed into action. Captain Hislop stood up from his seat and joined him at the open hatch, seeing platoons rush to formation before they boarded ground transport. As they landed, Marines stationed at the fort where boarding the available shuttle to get to their designated defense postings.

"Everyone seems to be in a hurry," said Hislop as they got off the shuttle and rushed to the administration building.

"No kidding, Ben. It's as if… damn it," He activated his watch and hooked himself to the main network of the base, "What luck we have. They just spotted a Turian fleet at the relay."

"An invasion? The birds must be insane. Cut off communications, release flimsy diplomatic answers to the blackout, the entire line is ready for any 'sudden' attack."

Harper looked around, "All of this, something's wrong."

"They should be fortunate we can't turn our other fleets against them."

Harper turned back to him, "What matters is why we didn't see this earlier. All intelligence said otherwise. But Williams should have known better." A squadron of fighters quickly flew by, buzzing the fort as the two held their arms over their eyes to see, "I want to know why I wasn't alerted to this sooner!"

"What? ...Yes, yes. Deploy everything as plan. Operation Siegfried is a go."

Williams placed his phone down and grabbed his grey military camouflage coat. As he rushed out his door, his secretary turned to him as he gathered his equipment, arming himself with a Phlanax.

"Sir, message from orbit. Colonel Harper and Captain Hislop have arrived. They should have landed in the fort by now."

"What! Why was I not . . .? So be it. Tell Forsythe to assume command of the command room below. I'll be with Harper."

"Yes, sir."

"And scuttle all my files. If we lose the fort, I don't want them to have anything more than empty optical drives!"

"Yes, sir!"

Williams walked right through the door. The hallway was full of officers rushing to their stations or the main command center below, where all ground defenses would be coordinated. Williams walked out the other way, and left the administration building. Outside the heart of Shanxi's defenses, the Third Army was moving into position. As he looked around, Harper and Hislop ran up to him.

"General!"

They ran and saluted, Williams quickly responded before continuing.

"We need to go."

"Go where?" asked Harper.

He looked back at them, each wearing their formal uniforms, "What? You think you can fight in your those?"

Williams signaled them to follow him. The base and all of Shanxi's defenses were prepping for a possible ground invasion. Across the main yard, platoons of soldiers and Marines were rushing to the shuttles and gunships, readying for deployment across the continent. In the hangars, the armored force of Shanxi was being readied.

"Harper, Hislop. You picked a hell of a time to visit."

"I have been waiting for your call to come here. Section lines have maintained green up status until the last hour. In fact, in spite of nearly six hours of this Turian blackout, not a single intelligence agency was acting beyond standard procedure."

"That's abundantly clear, Harper... wait," he turned back to him, "You received orders to come here?"

"Of course. It wasn't you?"

Williams waved him off. Whoever sent them here wasn't important. Getting him off and to his next assignment was, "What matters is you're here. I should have called you into service earlier. Things have escalated quicker than intended…" He looked up at the greyed-out sky, "You can do a lot in six hours."

"What the hell is going on? How did we not have confirmation of a fucking Turian invasion force on the other side of the relay!"

"It's far more complicated..."

They reached an armory. Williams ordered the soldiers to finish gearing up and leave; they then got in and began to fully arm themselves. Harper and Hislop grabbed the latest armor set, removing their formal coats. Williams just grabbed a simple grey beret and a light armor vest. The other two armed themselves up with the latest weapons for the Special Forces, specifically the new Reegar Fleet Arms SF-03 Adaptive Machine Rifle, capable of switching between long-range fire and close quarter combat. Williams just grabbed more .45 long rounds. The Turians were sure as hell not dropping them.

"Primarch Arterius, Harper. We have received confirmation reports that he has goes rogue."

"Rogue?"

Williams added on, acting a bit more unsettled, "Along with half of the Turian Navy, and most of the Army."

"Wait, hold on," Hislop turned to Williams, "Are you telling me some colonial governor somehow managed to rally half of the of the galaxy's most professional military to jump ship and fight his own war?!"

"If there's a miscommunication, let me know, Captain. Because you just summarized the situation perfectly!"

"Holy shit," He clapped his forehead and looked around in shook.

Harper turned to him as he finished up, "What could he have that would compel half of the Hierarchy to war? What is it? What could have possibly provoked a revolt and an unsanctioned attack by the Turian Military?" Harper walked straight up to him, "Williams, what the hell does Desolas have?!"

"Operation Damsel, Harper." He put his grey beret on and stared at him, his scarred eye squinting, "He knows about Operation Damsel."

Harper stopped, a whole new dread overcoming him. Williams looked him dead in the eye. With those words, he knew. Primarch Desolas Arterius didn't simply have the means to war; he had the greatest weapon in the galaxy. He had the means to rally it against them.

* * *

 **Part 3:**

 **Admiral Toma and Admiral Parrus  
THV Spirits of Illium  
Zero Hour  
September 4, 2168 07:00:00 UTC**

"Status report."

Admiral Toma and Admiral Parrus stood in the CIC of the first dreadnought built since the Terran entered the galaxy, the _Spirits of Illium_. They were leading the first main vanguard into Federation Space. Just as he stood at the back of the CIC, overlooking his crew, the _Spirits of Illium_ was following behind to lead the vanguard. This battle for the strongest, and weakest, point in 'Williams' Line' was more than a battle for a strategic point. The galaxy would watch, as they had of Illium. The rise of the Turian Nation would begin here.

"A Flotilla of the Sol Fleet has formed up position, their backs to Shanxi's second moon. We have reports from the rear guard that they will hold the relay on our end until the comm blackout is over."

Admiral Parrus was technically the commander for the entire Turian Nation fleet, being only a few positions below Admiral Fedorian. After Toma's leave for so long, Parrus was now the senior officer, short of Fedorian and those lost last year. But he and Desolas knew this was personal for Toma. And being arguably more skilled in Terran tactics, second only to Fedorian, having him lead the vanguard was strategic and tactical.

It would be needed. The blackout gave time to gather a sizable fleet and Army, all while preventing Fedorian from stopping them and pushing the Terrans to full alert. The Terrans couldn't gather a full fleet at the border without just cause; a communications blackout wasn't a strong enough excuse. But the Nation still had fleets worth of ships left behind and needed both the element of surprise and the key Desolas promised them. A victory at Shanxi would be the first of the Vendetta, and it would justify itself once the blackout ended and the galaxy knew thr truth they knew.

He nodded, reading his screen displays and calculating the situation. "Good. Our missed rounds won't endanger anyone."

"I see little point in that. Why worry of collateral damage? It's not ours…"

Toma interrupted, "And we have access to their starbase?"

"The same program the Primarch used to shut comms down are working. We don't have full control yet, but we intercepted all hyperspace and quantum communications. All the data they are receiving is duds. Though their high command does know we are here." He checked a minor alert on his screen. He turned to a sensor officer, who confirmed what he was seeing. Parrus then turned to Toma, "Admiral, I must remind you that we must gain orbital control and land troops before the Terran's Second Fleet arrives and begin contesting Shanxi's sky."

Toma nodded as he stood over his galaxy map and held onto the railing, like the days of long ago. "Patience, Parrus. We have the time. With what Primarch Arterius gave us, we shall have enough time to land forces and get into position for them. By the time the Second arrives to 'clean up'… we will be doing the same as well."

"Of course, Toma. And what about the Fourth? That would be their reinforcements?"

They all turned to the galaxy map, where a large screen displayed the view of the Sol Fleet flotilla and Starbase 127. Toma zoomed out the map, showing a scale replica of the system. Thinking of Illium, he responded,

"You know very well what I have in store for them."

Toma smiled as he saw the sight. There was the guard that would defend, as the man in that video said, the Terran's own 'heart of civilized space'. The enemy knew they were there. It was time now to read to them the crimes they bore on behalf of their nation.

"Open comms to all ships. It is time they know the crimes of their nation. What they do next will be their plea."

He pressed down on his own forehead plate, irritated by his instance for communicating first. He wanted to attack first, then explain after.

"Open Comms to the leading ship!"

Parrus signaled the comm officer to open comms on all frequencies. He prepared the initial transfer of the same information Desolas gave them to that, in fairness, the terrans would know what they did. Though they never expected them to really listen. This whole battle was as much as show as it was a strategic first step into the Federation.

* * *

 **FSS Van Allen's Shield  
Five Minutes pass Zero Hour**

"Lead ship is now six hundred thousand kilometers from position!" yelled an ensign to the captain of the ship.

Squad Captain Kennings stood in the middle of the bridge, looking out as the viewport's holo projectors displayed updating information. His bridge crew was in position at their stations, ready to engage. He was the captain of one of the two Flagships of the flotilla, and the assigned Squad Captain to lead the Sol Flotilla guarding the system. They would be the symbol of Terran resiliency, their job was to hold the line before the overwhelming response of the Terran Navy could arrive. They were waiting for the time for strike and drive the Turians out.

"Hyperdrive ready?" he asked to his engineering crew and helmsman.

"Flotilla reports ready to strike!" she replied as she input coordinates into her station.

A comm officer standing across the table from him reported in. "Sir, Starbase 127 has given us the green light. We are free to engage!"

The flotilla of the home fleet was in formation, the ships lined up in an enclosing plane formation, ready to engulf the Turian vanguard. As much as the Navy has been training since Contact, the Terrans must take advantage of their weapons at close range. Useless at the range the Turians would fight at, up close they were deadly and their ships were nearly indestructible, backed by the technological edge and industrial capabilities of Humanity. They would hyperspace jump right in front of them and attack, their slugs able to easily punch through the Turians with ease.

"Ready?"

"Ready!" reported the helmsman.

"Captain! The Turians have begun a communication and data transmission!"

Kennings turned to the Comms Officer, "Transmission?"

"Data files, reports… and an audio transmission."

"Send the files to 127. Open comms. Keep the fleet ready on my order"

Admiral Toma's speech began playing:

" _Lay down your arms._

 _We, the Turian Nation, have come to understand the true nature of those who call themselves 'Terran'."_

"Wait, what?"

" _The Terrans have been called liberators, heroes, and many other underserved titles. What you have been led to believe is all a lie._

 _Their conspiracy has been exposed, and we will not allow them to enact their plans against the Council or the galaxy's inhabitants any longer._

 _I now speak directly to the Federation: We are coming for you. Your gambit for control, for conquest, has been in vain. Our vendetta begins! The Nation will fight to end your reign."_

"Conspiracy… Gambit… Nation? Commsman!"

"Sir?"

"What do those files contain?"

She checked the files being broadcasted by the Turians.

"Operation files. Terran Military Intelligence… There's over half a yottobyte of data. The only real term we can isolate is 'Operation Damsel' and 'Illium'."

The Helmsman reported in, "They are still moving in. Two minutes until they are in effective range."

"That's it. No more of this. Cut this pompous show of righteousness and open comms to the head ship."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

"The _Van Allen's Shield_ has hailed us! Audio only."

"Route the message to the command post." Toma opened comms and patched it through to his and Parrus' earpieces.

"This is completely pointless…"

"We gave them the chance to surrender."

Parrus turned to the old man, "Are you honestly expecting them to surrender?"

He thought about it for a moment, "Open the comms, Admiral Parrus."

Immediately, Captain Kennings spoke,

" _Turian Fleet. Your insistence on this evidence of crimes by our government bares no weight to the situation at hand. You have sent an armed fleet into our territory. Your actions constitute an act of war against us! Stand down immediately or you will face the full might of the Terran Navy."_

Toma prepared to reply, but Parrus impulsively spoke instead,

"Act of war? Are you not aware of what you have done? Your government, your _president_ , orchestrated a false flag operation in the pretext of showcasing yourselves as heroes! You attacked us, and we are that retaliation force."

" _You mean we attacked Illium? Last year? Absurd! If the Hierarchy wants to start a 'vendetta', so be it. The Federation's scourge will end it, now!"_

Parrus kept typing on his console, trying to see what happened to the comm. Toma gripped his railing with a tightening grip, a silently angry at how his student just responded.

"Are you happy now?" he asked.

"We were wasting our time, our element of surprise, Admiral Toma!" An alert appeared on his screen and he turned his head back for a moment, "We gained full access to the flotilla several minutes ago. It's time we let them know our will!"

Toma looked on at the screen. As much as he wished the Terrans would surrender, he knew this was no police action. It was war from the beginning when Desolas shouted the battle cry to plunge the galaxy into this vendetta. This new Turian Nation would do the rest. The great gambit was unraveling, just as planned.

"Fine then. Let history repeat." He yelled out to the crew, "For the fallen! They're blood shall pay for ours… Parrus, engage!"

Parrus signaled the digital warfare officers, "Engage the _Will of the Titans_! Full fleet effect!"

* * *

"Ten seconds until they're in effective range!"

"Commodore Huang says we are clear to proceed. Defense of the system is top priority."

"All ships jump on my mark!"

Just before he gave the order, a systems lieutenant in the rows of consoles turned around when he noticed an alert on their computer systems.

"Captain, we…"

"Engage!" Kennings shouted out with bravado.

"Jumping!"

The command was sent to the flotilla. In full coordination, they all activated their hyperdrive engines. In a second, they entered and left hyperspace at virtually the same moment in time, bridging the space between them. Now face to face with the Turians, they awaited the order, ready to stab at them at the dreaded 'knife fighting' range of spatial combat.

"Fire!" ordered the Squad Captain.

The Comm Officer got on the radio, "All ships. Confirm. Weapons free!"

The Tactical Officer pressed the command on his console, a fully volley of slugs from the flagship's cannons and waves of torpedoes and a barrage missiles. But only a beep of an error came through. He pressed it again, but there was nothing. He looked down at his console, still empty of any warning notice, or of any change in its output display. He tensed at the sudden failure of his systems, quickly shouting out to report.

"Sir, we have weapons control failure…" He checked his earpiece for a confirmation message from the weapons compartment. He slammed his fist on the console right afterwards, "Confirmed, misfire, misfire! We have weapons control failure. We have weapons control failure!"

Kenning quickly turned to him, "What?!"

Several comm officers turned from their stations to the captain, as their consoles lit up with communications from the rest of the flotilla. One of them reported in the main news across the flotilla.

"All ships have reported failure of weapons. AIs report logic errors across the board."

"Someone give me a report, now!"

A lieutenant from the computers systems section reported in, speaking out loud, "Sir. We report errors in our computer systems moments before we jumped. We are losing control of the…"

The lights on the bridge turned off, emergency lights turning on in response. Some of them then turned off as well. Console after console then began shutting down as well, the main bridge officers lost control of their ship controls.

"Robert, Welch, Irene," he called his ship's main command AIs, "Status report!"

The three AI avatars appeared on the command table. Robert was the first, and only one able to speak, "We have begun to search proto… Have begun… Error…" There were more garbled up words from the AI. Then the entire table began to spark, the captain and his staff backed up as the table malfunctioned and broke.

The sudden silence of the ship's AIs brought a disheartening tone across the bridge. The same officer replied as he turned back to his console, trying to get something on the black screen of the AI nodes.

"We have nothing… Everything's gone!"

Frustrated over this sudden failure, a new reality struck Kennings. He slowly turned his head back to the viewport. The only light source remaining was of the Turian fleet in front of him. Everyone did the same as well, staring at the enemy, utterly helpless.

The tactical officer noticed a flash from a ship at the rear of the Turian formation. He pointed over and yelled out, "They're opening fire!"

"Shields, hull plating?"

The tactical officer turned back, bashing his console all the while, "They're all gone. We're defenseless!"

He simply stood, straight, next to the powerless command table and took a deep breath as his entire bridge crew looked to him. He quickly made the sign of the cross across his chest and yelled out his final order.

"Abandon ship!"

* * *

A commander in the forward section of the CIC reported in to the Admiral, "Admiral Toma! We've disabled the Terrans!"

"Good," he said and simply nodded.

"Ready to fire!"

Toma looked on, thinking. Across of the void, he could only think of what was on the minds of those leading the defense.

He whispered to himself, "Are they scared? Was he scared, confused maybe? Did they try to fight till the end? He would have fought till the end…"

Parrus yelled to him, "Admiral! They could regain control at any minute. We still don't know how powerful this…"

He kept talking to himself, "We could have had real peace… it was always an option… but if they want war, we will both bleed for that peace!"

Parrus looked at him, overhearing part of what he said, "What?"

There was nothing ceremonial about it. He gave the order straight, "Open fire."

Rolling his eyes, Parrus opened comms. This was one command he had been waiting to give for some time, and he screamed it out loud for every ship to hear, "All ships, open fire!"

The _Spirits of Illium_ fired the first shot, aimed at the _Van Allen's Shield_. The fifty kilogram, tungsten tip round from the dreadnought quickly crossed the short space between the two fleets, and skidded in the upper flat hull of the Terran flagship, metric ton flakes of hull were scraped away by the sharp round. It then collided through the bridge of the _Van Allen's Shield_ and continued through the command module on the top of the ship. The rest of the fleet opened fire soon after, hundreds more rounds made their mark, each tearing through the Terrans.

Round after round the Turians fired, and round after round the Terrans took. The pride of their fleet, the flagships that once entered the realm of the Citadel to proclaim a new era of Terran dominance, were shredded as the glass strong metal plates they really were. Their dreadnought-sized cruisers were decimated with impunity; the two plus kilometer ships began to crack and explode in the void. Their smaller cruisers were crushed by either the Turian rounds or the floating debris of the larger ships. A few Terran ships managed to manually fire off their ordinance, but the Fleet stood ready to shoot them down and render any resistance moot.

Toma watched in silence, the rest of the crew turned to their screens and did the same as well. On a nearby ship transporting the first wave of the landing force, Desolas watched as well as it happened, knowing what he did. It was exactly what he wanted. The advanced energy shields, the advanced hull platings, the might and size of the Terran fleet, the magic aura that when the Terrans could not be stopped. It was all gone right there and then. All they had to do was dare; dare to do this.

A few minutes later, the first defense into the Federation was crushed. A victory no one else thought could be scored on the Terrans, and the first of many.

Toma sighed. _How many did I just kill?_ Was the question on his mind. But he could only rationalize that was not his fault. This was war. This was a vendetta.

"Status, Admiral Parrus."

Parrus smiled and nodded to him, "The Sol Flotilla has been defeated. We are on course to Starbase 127."

Toma looked through his screens, reading the reports from his strike force. He displayed a time countdown of the rated delay for the Second Fleet to transwarp in.

* * *

 **Starbase 127  
Fifteen Minutes pass Zero Hour**

"Full evacuation! Full evacuation! I want everyone off this station!"

They all watched. Everyone on the starbase just watched. Over a thousand Terran ships were destroyed. No one could understand what had happened. For the younger officers, the loss of the might of the Navy was unfathomable; they had won the Blitz with nearly no loss. But for the aged Commodore Huang, he had seen this before. When man's great enemy was man.

"How… how the hell did they did that?" asked Lieutenant Long.

The next pressing thought was on their minds. That Flotilla was supposed to hold itself in battle for the time needed to fully deploy the Second and Fourth. If they just saw what happened, maybe they could arrive before the Turians made it to Shanxi. They knew that they themselves, a static base and a series of short-range orbital defense satellites, stood no chance against a mobile fleet.

"That's beside the point! Toku, Martin, arm our defenses for automatic. We need to delay the Turians from landing!"

The defense officer and the overarching AI of the starbase responded, "Yes, sir!"

"Feng, word from the Second?"

He turned around as he confirmed the message he was supposedly receiving from Arcturus, "They got a full view like we did! They should be here any moment now."

He nodded, looking around as his remaining crew looked to him. Tens of thousands just died, and many more most likely would follow. He took a deep breath and exhaled, ready, "We're done here… Lock the system. Martin, transfer to Fort Bao, authorization Foxtrot-Huang-Seven-Whisky."

"Linking to Shanxi Command."

"And the rest of you… head to an escape pod. I'll see you all planetside."

They quickly saluted the Commodore, then all rushed out of the command room. As Huang began heading over as well, he looked out, watching the Turian Nation approach Shanxi. Nothing of that scene made sense. No warning signs, no declaration. Something beyond his rank dictated the events. As he approached the exit, the lights of the room began to flicker, the abandoned computer consoles flashing random data bits.

As far as anyone back home knew, they were winning.

* * *

Parrus checked the systems, utilizing the key Desolas promised them would open the way to the heart of the Terrans. This _Will of the Titans_ , a 'stolen' Terran program, was the key. The thought had crossed Desolas' mind as to why the Terrans would create something that could overcome the technological advantages they had. It uses were limited to only internal problems, since regular AI programs were sufficient enough against everyone else. _Maybe they face a greater threat from within…_

"We have access to Starbase 127's defense grid."

Toma nodded, "Good, Admiral Parrus. Activate the self-destruct sequence of their satellite defense systems and alert General Partinax he may begin deployment."

Parrus turned to him and nodded, "Yes, sir. And the starbase? Shall I order the Fleet to destroy it?"

Toma reemerged from thought, "We have their QEC systems, correct?"

Parrus nodded, "Yes, Admiral."

He continued staring at the systems map of ship deployment, "Then continue the spoofing transmission. Ready the Fleet at these coordinates and have the Terran Second Fleet transwarp in. Remember, focus on hacking the communications systems. We can't let them alert Arcturus or the Fourth Fleet."

"We'll have it done."

"And Parrus," he said as he stepped down from the center command station.

"Yes…"

Toma grabbed hold of his arm and pulled him away from his station towards the back of the CIC in a small adjacent room.

"What the hell were you thinking back there?"

Parrus was shocked by his anger and his own temper began to emerge, "What in the spirits do you mean?"

"If I had been able to explain ourselves, they might have foregone fighting us. We could have made them understand what happened!"

He was bewildered, "Are you mad? We are invading them! We are not diplomats we are soldiers! Sending that message was a tactical mistake! If they attacked sooner, we'd be dead."

Toma shoved him to the wall, "We are here to bring them to justice!"

Admiral Parrus shoved back, "We are unleashing a vendetta! We are here to destroy our enemy. That is the justice we are fighting for. Remember that, Admiral Toma. I won't jeopardize _my_ fleet for you to try and get a moral high ground. When we are done here, we'll have that and more!" He stepped forward and stood face to face with him, "And I expect you to remember that."

"So be it... I'll be coordinating the Corivel Strike Force."

"Of course, Admiral."

The two walked out of the room and rejoined the CIC. Parrus took the central station, overlooking the entire bridge crew. Toma walked off to the side, now directly interfacing with the special ships that led the rest of the fleet there. As much as Parrus was enraged by his former teacher and subordinate's show of bravado, he had other plans. Take Shanxi, and then the rest of the Federation.

* * *

 **Part 4:**

 **General Partinax  
THV Propono  
Fifteen Minutes pass Zero Hour**

Partinax stood at the launch floor of the troop carrier _Propono,_ in high orbit over theplanet. Around him, his forces of the Twelfth Marine Legion were being loaded on a variety of drop shuttles. They would be the first to touch ground and secure a beachhead. His Army, two infantry divisions and some armor elements of the Turian First Army that could be mustered on short notice for the invasion, were being loaded on larger drop ships for the later phase. His full force would take a full day to arrive, so he knew everything had to go right.

"General Partinax."

He turned around, "Primarch Arterius."

The plan was as simple as it was complex. Landing a numerically inferior force against enemy forces of superior numbers, then hold the ground without Naval support. Groundside defenses such as intricate missile defenses and orbital radars were being cleared by the Turian Navy, but once landing began, they would be sent back to hold off the Terran Navy. It was a common scenario that any Army or Marine officer trained for in great detail. The problem for Partinax was the Terrans were the unknown factor, their tactics unpredictable, and he knew only one thing. If he fought with the same tactics he was trained with, he and his men would be dead on arrival.

"Is your force ready? I must remind that you have a short window before Parrus must break from orbit."

"I am aware… Colonel Duvitis?"

An officer rushed up to the General and Primarch as a platoon of soldiers marched in formation to the nearest transport ship.

"General! Primarch!" He saluted the two and they quickly saluted back, "Is there anything you need, sir?"

Partinax handed him an updated landing plan on a tablet. He looked at it for a moment, confused by the change of the landing site, and the order of attack.

"Uh, yes sir. I'll update the Marine drop shuttles." As he walked away, he got on his earpiece comm, "Bring all air assets online. Everything is to be diverted to the first wave."

This whole vendetta only required the conquest of this one vital world. A victory over General Williams would be the rallying cry that soon, every Terran world would fall, and serve as proof they could fall. Shanxi was a developed colony. It had a major spaceport to facilitate orbital travel and a central city that if controlled, would give command of much of the colonized planet. Naturally, taking them quickly would solidify control of the planet. And failing to do so would end the single, and most important ground battle for the Turian Nation. And the man, Partinax's counterpart, who had spent months studying this in detail, knew this fact as much as he did.

Instead, they would now attack in full force. And they would attack and establish a beachhead where even they wouldn't expect. They would attack where the Terrans would simply never think the seemingly single minded Turian would ever attack. They shall land, and they shall spread out from the heart of the Terran defense of Shanxi. If they are to win, they needed to dare and dare big.

"Are we ready?" asked Desolas.

"Yes Primarch…" He turned back, remembering an item of importance, "Primarch Arterius. Have you received the item my forces obtained for you?"

"Why yes," he said, smiling as he remembered what else he had learned from that OCD, "I have. And my apologies for not talking to you about your letter. Yes, let us have a drink. A toast! For when we march from Shanxi to Arcturus."

"Yes, let's." Partinax was still confused by what Desolas wanted recovered from that exchange. But the matter at hand was clear. He looked out as his Marine shuttles left the bay and began descent of the planet. They would strike right were Williams was.

* * *

 **Part 5:**

 **Town of Boa, Shanxi  
Ten Minutes pass Zero Hour  
September 4, 2168 07:10:00 UTC**

Decmius Acerbitu ran as fast as he could. The young Turian boy looked up at the sky, a bright light was coming through the clouds and obscuring his sight. But then something flew into it, casting a shadow and leaving a glimmer in his eyes. He held his hands out, forming a triangle with his talons, and jumped forward for the extra distance. And with a grab, he caught the football and landed hard on the ground.

He and some of the other kids were playing football in the empty streets of Bao. Around them were residential homes and past them were an endless amount of crop fields. It was a cool late Sunday morning by local time. Most were in their homes that day, some were just returning from chapel. Nothing was out of place.

"Nice catch, Pidgey!" yelled his friend, a Quarian boy, as he and the others ran up to him.

"That's was one heck of a toss, Wit," he said chuckling as he got back up.

When he moved from the Citadel to Shanxi, he made friends rather quickly and had earned that nickname just as fast. He liked the name, it was one that pointed out his adopted parents were a Turian and a Quarian. Given what he was once called on the Citadel, it was an improvement.

"I've been practicing. I'm thinking of trying out for the team at school."

Another boy, a human, commented, "I wish we have one of them Krogans as a linebacker."

"What do you think? Should I tryout?" asked Decmius.

A girl in the group patted him on the back, startling him enough to drop the football.

"You dropped that like a hot potato! Maybe you should stick to _football_ rather than football," she said, placing an emphasis on the first name to distinguish between the two Terran sports.

The other human commented, "She does have a point. You would make a great striker…"

Suddenly, there was a wailing sound in the distance. It grabbed their attention, and the kids looking wildly around for the source. They turned to the hill, the sirens in the base at the top were screeching, and a moment later, the sirens on the street lamps came alive as well. There was even more noise when they heard several sonic booms, accompanied by a wing of fighters flying over the town as they circled the fort.

Yana came sprinting out of the door and yelled, "Dec! Get inside, now!"

He ran in as the others scattered, his mother slammed the door shut behind him. She grabbed his shoulders and they walked over to the living room, where his father, was standing in the middle of the room his eyes glued to the television:

"… _with the colonial government declaring a state of emergency just minutes ago. In the announcement, Governor Xi has called for emergency procedures to begin. We have reports that an evacuation effort is in effect for the capital of Pingyao; all residents are to report to the Jade Lin Memorial Park to evacuate to safe zones in the hills…_ "

"Dad, what's going on?"

He turned to them, "There seems to be an emergency."

"An emergency? What could be happening?" asked Yana. She thought for a moment and looked down to Decmius, "Dec, go sit down. Your father and I need to figure out what's happening."

Palio began walking away to the bedroom, "There's only one thing to cause such a panic…"

The news anchor continued, " _…All colonists across the continent are to await supervision from the Terran Military. Governor Xi asks everyone to remain calm and listen to all local authorities…_ "

The news feed then stopped. Decmius turned and stared at the static, confused about what was happening. They heard rumbling outside, and footsteps of a large group.

Yana headed back to the front door and looked out through the blinds; in the once empty streets where a handful of children had stood, there was now a platoon of Terran soldiers and National Guards marching down it, surrounding a few APCs as they drove. One popped out of the top hatch and began talking through the intercom.

"Attention residents of Bao. A state of emergency is now in effect. This area is now under military control. Do not interfere with military activity. Please stay in your homes and await further instruction."

Palio came up beside his wife with an AR-25 in his right talon and a typhoon shotgun in the other.

"Yana, take this."

"My shotgun? What in the name of the Ancestors is going on?"

"Don't you see, dear? This is what happens when a planet is about to be invaded." He held up the shotgun to her. Reluctantly, she took it. "And if we don't get ready…"

"Palio, this is Shanxi! We have an army just up the hill. We have a whole fleet guarding the system." Something seemed to dawn on her. "Wait, who could be attacking? Not the Hierarchy, surely?"

He signed, raised his rifle and flipped the small switches on it, after making sure the safety was still on, and activated the special retrofit barrel. While it still used old Terran RASA 5.75mm rounds, its barrel contained massatanium and was designed to lighten the round's mass, then use a magnetic accelerator to give more velocity. It was a cheap way to give Terran civilian arms a means to penetrate the more advanced kinetic barriers of Council forces, should a situation call for it.

"Maybe…" He looked worriedly at his wife. "Diplomacy might have broken down."

Decmius turned to him, "But Dad, isn't that our kind? Turian?"

Palio turned back, absolutely livid, "No, Decmius. We are Terran! First and foremost! This is the land that freed your mother and me. And it's the land that gave you a home."

"But…"

"No buts. Your mother and I will gladly fight for our new home. So Decmius. Are willing to fight for yours?"

He looked down for a moment, and then grabbed the 'Silver Bishop' coin that was hanging around his neck. After a moment, he turned back up to him and nodded with resolve.

"Yes, Dad!"

"Good," Decmius ran up to him, and Palio knelt down to look him the eye, "Because most of all. We're fighting for you."

He hugged them both, "I love you, Dad. I love you, Mom."

"And we love you so much, little boy. Remember that." Yana activated her shotgun and it expanded for full use, "Now then…"

There was sudden boom, like the first time when the Terran Air Force arrived at Fort Bao. But something was wrong. It was followed by a high-pitched humming sound. It grew louder, and there were multiple versions of it. Palio remembered this sound from his long ago days in the military.

"That can't be…" He grabbed the two of them and rushed out of the living room to the furthest point of the house from the street, "Get in the bathtub."

As they ran off, their television picked up a new signal.

* * *

 **Fort Bao  
Twenty Minutes pass Zero Hour**

"Williams. How did he learn of that?" Harper began panicking, "How do you know that anyway?

"What's this 'Damsel'?" asked Hislop.

"Not now, Ben!" He walked up to him, fully suited in armor, and made Williams turn to face him, "Williams, tell me. How did he, of all people, learn about Operation Damsel?"

"I… I can't say."

"Can't?" He pulled out a pistol and took aim, "Or won't?"

"Jack, what the hell are you doing?!" Hislop rushed to stop him, but Harper grabbed his rifle and raised it at him.

Williams raised his hands halfway up, only a bit surprised, "Colonel, think this through…"

"There've been way too many secrets, Williams! Since Contact, of all the targets, you placed our effort on Arterius. And yet, he ends up learning of the very secret that could very well plunge this galaxy into war? How?!"

It hit Williams as he had that gun aimed at him. He could have sworn he was experiencing this same conversation years ago. It was like déjà vu, but he knew it was all too real, and this very moment had been bound to happen. Still, he hadn't expected it. The tables were now turned. The next leader of Section 14 was arguing with him, like Williams had with Bletchley.

"You want answers?"

"Yes, God damn it!" Harper relented and lowered his pistol, "You trained me to one day lead this group. And yet, you left me out of something like this!"

Williams shrugged his shoulders, "The feeling is more common than you think." He slowly reached into his pocket and took out the OCD, "Here are your answers."

"I have to find it in a disk?"

"You have it easy. Bletchley made me figure it out on my own."

Harper reached to grab the OCD from Williams' hand. But as he did so, his watch activated. Hislop's watch did also, but Williams' had a far greater level of security. On them, an audio message began playing. All across the planet, it played to all it could make listen. As the Terrans did through the Hegemony, the Turians now did through Shanxi.

"What is this?"

Williams took out his revolver, sensing a fight approaching, "We swept through the galaxy, broadcasting our righteous cause… What do you honestly think is happening?"

* * *

 **Twenty Five Minutes pass Zero Hour**

The three of them rushed out of the armory. The message was clear to all. The Turian nation was out on a vendetta and they were gunning for them. Around them, the base was ready, its soldiers ready to defend terran soil no matter what the message said. They would defend the gates into the Federation. Beyond its walls, the entire planet was readying for war. An invasion force would most certainly land, and it would not be a quick skirmish. To them, the Turians had done what was already the impossible and broken through the defense fleet.

Ahead of them was a convoy of transports and armored vehicles, ready to depart.

"Major, are you ready to deploy?"

The major organizing the latest convoys turned to him and saluted, "Yes, sir! We are set to move into the capital."

"Good," Williams turned to Harper, "We have a short window of clear space. The spaceport is already closed and prepped for dealing with the first assault. Take a shuttle and join up with the Second Fleet. Get back to friendly space and link up with Section Cell Overlord. They'll get you two to…"

His radio then went off, " _Williams!_ "

"Forsythe?"

" _We have radar confirmation. The first wave, its headed straight for us!_ "

There was a sonic boom straight above them. Everyone turned up for a moment as more were heard, the clouds above obscuring any visual above. The sound was uncharacteristic of the swarm of Terran fighters already in the air. Williams' earpiece went off and as he checked, something broke through the clouds. Before anyone could shout, the Turian fighters opened fire, unleashing a burst of dual laser and mass accelerated fire on the formation of fighters below.

"Switch to radio call signs, evac the command center. Burn everything!"

"Yes _Zeus_!"

Everyone else on the ground scattered as missed shots hit the base. As the first wave engaged the Terrans, a second one quickly descended and began a full strafing run. Harper grabbed Williams and pulled him out of the way, as the Turians opened fire and overwhelmed Fort Bao's anti-air defenses and took out its main comm dishes and LADAR systems. They then began strafing the ground troops inside, as everyone below scrambled to fire back in the chaos.

"Why the hell are they here? Our defenses are focused right on this point!" yelled Hislop.

"And taking it out first makes sense," said Harper as he kept low behind cover and tried to look over to see what was happening, "Ripped right out of our playbook!"

"Desolas' forces must have put their main force on Roland's fleet. They won't have enough for a wide spread attack. If they attack here, it changes our entire defense plan. But they'll have to land forces first."

"Then we need to get to the space port," said Williams. He stared up from behind their cover of several metal crates, looking up at the massive air battle above.

One Terran fighter flew past them at breathtaking speed, with two Turian fighters following closely behind. The air battle above increased as more entered. But for a short moment, more Terran aircrafts began to convene in one area to hold the command center of Shanxi, set on driving the Turians out.

But there was something wrong. Harper took quick note of that and Williams knew all too well. On the short-range comms, the leader of a fighter pilot group got on Williams' frequency.

" _Fort Bao. I repeat, Fort Bao. This is Colonel Serafin, Warsaw-1, 19_ _th_ _Air Division. We are acknowledging request for aerial reinforcements. Converging to defend fort air space. Over._ "

Williams got on his earpiece. He knew what was about to happen. He did the same thing years ago. "This is Zeus! Break off, I repeat, break off! Comm frequency is compromised! It's a zapper trap!"

" _What! All units scatter! I repeat, Warsaw-1 to all air assets, scatter immediately!_ "

And the reason why quickly appeared. As the clouds parted, three Turian heavy cruisers broke through the sky, descending straight at the ground several kilometers away. As all aircraft around the fort scattered, the ships pulled up in a sharp ninety-degree turn, a feat impossible for the equivalent Terran cruiser, but one the Turians could do easy with mass effect gravity fields brushing away the G's with ease. They quickly slowed down and began their pass over the fort, GAURDIAN at the ready.

"Get down!"

As dozens of Terran interceptor fighters filled the sky above the fort, the Turians opened fire. Across the hull of the ship, hundreds of laser railguns fired. The channeled laser energy ignited the air it touched and filled the sky with burning energized plasma, each aimed at a Terran fighter. In moments, before the pilots could react, the Turians' guns shredded the main force of the Terran air defense. Down below, the soldiers watched as hundreds of small explosions and black smoke filled the sky above.

The Turian nation had broken through.

The Turian cruisers that cleared the sky of Shanxi quickly ascended the atmosphere. That was the end of Naval support. More slugs from ships in orbit rained down on any remaining anti-orbital systems that were caught off guard by the Turian program that took all the Terrans off guard. But now, as debris of the Terran air force rained down on Shanxi, dozens of shuttles broke through that black smoke, the invasion now in its full.

"Harper!"

Williams grabbed him out of cover and pointed at the remaining vehicles. A Turian shuttle, diving for the fort ahead of the others, quickly leveled off just meters above the courtyard. Its hatches quickly slid open and a machine gunner on each side fired out, spraying down the courtyard before a spotter directed his fire.

Facing them, the gunner took aim at Williams and his agents. Williams pushed him out of the way and he alone faced the storm of rounds traveling at hypersonic speeds. Williams turned and raised his revolver. With split second aim, he fired. A .45 round began rifling through, and the wires around the barrel activated, small packets of element zero fluxing their mass effect fields. The round came out, the tungsten lead round charged, accelerated to hypersonic speeds like the rounds coming right at Williams, but with the heavy mass of the famed Terran round.

It passed through the shuttle's shield, already depleted from the quick drop through the atmosphere, and it hit between the main hull and an engine block. It ricocheted into the engine block and right into the fuel manifold. It blew up, just as Williams registered the pull of the trigger. The shuttle began spinning out of control and crashed into a nearby barracks.

Realizing he was not dead, he yelled out for his soldiers to form a rear guard. As Harper got up, Williams directed him and Hislop to a Humvee.

"We have to leave, now! Alpha, Echo, form up guard," As he hurried Harper to a vehicle, he pulled out a second OCD from his pocket and slipped it into the storage compartment of Harper's armor. He then smashed on his watch to try and get anyone still in the air on the line. "This is Zeus, convey on Bao. We need support for an evac!"

More shuttles arrived, but they were quick this time to drop their squads onto the ground and get out as the remaining Terran soldiers fired at the invasion force. From the gates, a tank rolled in to cover the Terrans' retreat, moving in-between the rear vehicle and they overran part of the fort.

" _This is Warsaw-1. Switch comms to frequency K7…_ " There was static, followed by the change on the comms, " _To all available air assets. Fort Bao is being overrun. Converged to position Lima and provide cover for Zeus!_ "

Williams grabbed a nearby sergeant and pointed over to the lead working vehicle, the few ahead of it destroyed by the initial strafing run. The fort was lost, and no amount of support was going to prevent that.

"Get on the wheel. We have to leave!"

Sergeant Massani turned around from the fight and nodded, "Yes, General!" He turned to his squad, "Holst, man the gun on top! Devlin, take the truck behind us!"

Williams boarded a smaller jeep in the front as Harper and Hislop got on the last one a few behind. As more Turian Nation soldiers and Marines landed to take the fort, an air squadron, mostly consisting of the second wave to get off the ground, rushed in and began a sortie run on the Turians holding an administration base. High yield omni missiles were leveled at the building, but they broke off from another run as the Turian fighters reconvened to take the airspace for good. In the opening, a drop shuttle raced in and dropped a Turian APC, its mag cannons taking aim at the tank the moment its wheels touched ground.

In the chaos, they departed, rushing out an entrance as a Turian fighter began a dive run. The strafing knocked out the Panther tank's shields, and the APC fired its main gun, a light mass accelerator gun magnitudes stronger than the Terrans', punched straight through the tank, tearing its insides apart as it passed through. The rear guard held the line for them to escape, but were slowly backing up towards the entrance the fort. They held until the remaining truck with Harper and Hislop drove out, then fell back as well and scattered into that fog of war, as trained. Out past the gate, the open fields welcomed them, but the battle above sent the opposite message.

* * *

 **Part 6:**

 **Town of Boa  
Twenty Five Minutes pass Zero Hour  
** **September 4, 2168 07:25:00 UTC** **  
**

Outside, the attack on the fort began. The battle above darkened the sky for a while, as the soldiers on the ground took cover along the side of the street. Several Turian fighters dove downwards and rushed for the town below the hill; they began strafing runs on the platoons guarding the town. Between each staring run, the soldiers broke out from cover and fired into the sky. The APCs turned their turrets and fired at the speeding curved spheres that were the Turian ships.

But they were too slow and the Turians were quick to take out the APCs. The three of them huddled in the bathtub for shelter. Structure wise, it was the sturdiest point in the house, and it was next to the back door. Yana and Palio held Decmius tightly between them as the house shook. The slow crumbling of their home muted the gunfire and screaming outside, but the force of the battle outside resonated. There was no doubt about what was happening. The war was right outside.

There was a moment of silence. Palio raised his head and strained to hear what was happening. Outside, the Turian cruisers were flying into position and seconds later lit up the sky. Their lasers ionized through the air and crushed the Terran Airforce. Inside their small tub, all the family heard were hundreds of small crackles, the sound of the Terrans falling from the sky. The battle right outside continued, the landing forces began their descent.

The three heard their front door bashed open. Palio stood up and readied his rifle. Safety off, he pulled the handle at the back of the receiver, loading a round in. As he slowly approached the door, someone called out,

"This is the Terran Army! Call out, is anyone here?"

Palio recognized the voice as human, so it was most likely friendly. He responded, the door still closed, "We're inside the bathroom!"

The officer tensed, hearing the distinctive flanging of a Turian voice. "Right… Yan, Daniels, cover the windows." The officer responded, "Civilian, I'm Lieutenant Kim. This area is now an active battle zone! You must leave immediately."

Palio turned back to Yana, and then to the door, "We're coming out! Don't shoot!"

He placed his rifle at the corner of the door and slowly opened it. He held his talons up and walked out. The Lieutenant kept his Lancer at the ready as he walked out.

"Who else is with you?" He eyed the rifle leaning on the doorframe. _Turian, but he's_ _likely a colonist if he's using an AR_.

"My wife, Quarian, and our son."

He nodded, "Good. Head out the back door and make your way through the fields. The Hierarchy seems to have broken through and this entire area could be—"

"Sir, we have visual! Two shuttles are touching down!"

He rushed out of the hallway and back into the kitchen. Palio took his rifle and slowly walked over, taking cover in the hall. Yana got out and leaned out into the hall to see what was happening. Outside, two shuttles had quickly touched down; a few squads of Turian Nation Marines were getting off and rushing to scout the perimeter. The situation had just gone from bad to shit; they couldn't leave.

Taking cover behind the counter, Kim saw Palio lean his head out to see through the broken window onto the street. He signaled him to get down and come closer to his position. He had to make sure Palio was on his side and wouldn't shoot them in the back. Seeing his Quarian wife come out and him signaling her to watch the back door was a bit reassuring.

In the kitchen, one of the soldiers radioed in to avoid making noise, "I count sixteen outside."

Kim turned to Palio, "They're close to surrounding the house. You can't leave… Have you been trained for militia duty?"

Palio nodded, "Yes. It wasn't much compared to my years in boot camp."

Kim tensed a bit, "You used to be one of them?"

"Emphasis on _used to be_."

"I hope so…"

"One is approaching the door," alerted one of the soldiers through the comm.

Kim patched himself to the others hiding in the surrounding buildings, "Prepare to engage on my mark." He turned back to Palio, "I'm officially instating you into active militia duty. Are you ready?"

He nodded back, "Ready."

"Yan, now!"

He walked out into the doorway and fired his shotgun, gunning down the approaching Marine. He scrambled into cover again as they opened fire, joined by the remains of the Terran platoon scattered across the street. Before they could rush to cover, Palio stood up and leveled his rifle. With a quick pull, he fired off a burst of round that quickly reached hypersonic speed, flew through the air outside, and through the barrier and chest of an officer. The next pulls came easier. He was ready to defend his home, his family, no matter who the enemy down his sight was.

The Marines outside took cover among the wreckage of the APCs. Caught off guard by the Terran ambush, they weren't willing to succumb to the _modus operandi_ of the Terrans. And they weren't willing to perform their old _modus operandi_ and die because of it. Their next commander in line called in support as the Terrans pinned them down, having the initial upper hand.

But it was one that would not last long. Two more shuttles dropped and hovered above the street. They were quickly followed by a Turian fighter in VTOL mode that took position on the other side of the street. The shuttles opened their hatches, machine gunners at the ready, and opened fire. Each gunner sprayed tens of thousands of mass accelerated rounds into the houses along the street. The fighter did the same, turning a full circle as its dual guns fired into the houses and businesses in Bao, obliterating the wood-metal houses with ease.

The shuttle fired at the Acerbitu house, thousands of rounds passed through the front walls. Kim and Palio stayed down behind the counter, but Yan and Daniel were gunned down by shuttle fire while behind cover. After a few more seconds, they stopped, and the two heard them depart. But it only meant that a full-on attack was next.

Yana turned to the door, hearing noises outside. She took cover back in the bathroom and leaned out. Palio and Kim repositioned between the hallway and the door. As the Marines charged forward to take the front, a second squad surrounded the back door. They kicked the door in and rushed, but Yana quickly leaned over and fired. The first two in went down as the others took cover outside.

The Marines tried to push in again from the rear. As Palio handled the ones in the front, Kim turned left and took aim. He quickly popped out the built-in scope, taking an infrared scan ahead. He aim and fired, gunning down the last two through the doorframe with the large marble rounds of his magnetic rifle. He quickly pivoted back forward and sprayed down the front to keep the Nation Marines from getting in.

"Yana!"

"Palio?"

He ducked behind the counter, "Get Decmius out of here!"

She turned back to him, "What? What about you?"

Kim popped a new fusion battery into his rifle, "I'll keep your husband safe. Get your son out of here!"

"Keelah…" She turned back into the bathroom and called out to their son. Like a year before, he was huddled away as the battle raged on outside. But in spite of the gunfire and battle noises all around, he made his way out of the tub and to his mother's side, hugging her tightly. She placed her arm around him and slowly walked him through the back, holding her shotgun up.

Decmius turned around as he was rushed out, "What about Dad?"

"Go, Dec! I'll be alright."

"But-"

"Go!"

He turned away as Yana got them outside. The first sight was the massive air battle outside; hundreds of Terran fighters filled the sky to avenge those who fell as more Turian fighters entered from orbit to finish them off. A few dozen meters from them was a wheat field.

As they started to run over, a Marine came around the corner and took aim. Yana turned around, shoving Decmius towards the field. As he tumbled down, both Yana and the Marine fired at each other. When Decmius stopped and stood up, he turned to see the two standing there, frozen in the chaos around them.

Then the Marine fell to the ground. Decmius cheered, but Yana stood still. She mustered the effort to turn to him.

"Run!"

"What? Come on, let's-"

"Run, Dec, run!"

He was confused, but the wreck of a Terran fighter coming in hot just above him startled him back to life and he ran off into the field. Yana stood there and dropped her shotgun. She coughed, spitting out red Terran blood. She looked down, seeing several holes in her suit. They were leaking her blood, the nanites in them made the liquid sparkle. Realizing her situation, she stumbled back towards her house. When she made it to the hallway, she approached Palio, who turned around as she fell.

"Yana!"

He dropped his rifle and rushed to catch her in his arms. At the back, two more Marines came in, Kim rushed to turn and shoot them. With the lack of frontal coverage, the officer outside ordered them to take the house.

"Flash in!"

Three grenades went in and several blinding flashes filled the house. Palio closed his eyes and held Yana tightly as the Marines rushed inside. With his helmet dimmer, Kim was unfazed and saw as they entered and he rushed into melee combat. He charged into the kitchen, bashing one Marine's face in, but the second did the same to him. He stumbled back against the sink. Then a Marine shot him in the chest.

Palio snapped out and laid Yana down. He rushed out from behind the counter, but a more agile Marine bashed him in the face with the butt of his Phaeston. He fell to the floor, across from Yana as she bled out. The Marines secured the rest of the house.

* * *

Colonel Duvitis walked in to survey the house. The skirmish to take the small town had ended with dozens of dead Marines, a strike against him when he was supposed to take the town quickly as a beachhead. Securing the fort was a strategic blow the Terrans hadn't expected. But without the spaceport, they would be slow to land heavy support, and with Williams' escape, the Terrans shall be quick to reform new lines to push them back. Here alone, the few Terran soldiers and civilians had put up a fight before being done away with. But the ones in the house were special. He walked over and stood above Palio. He was alive, for he was a Turian.

"A Turian, I see."

He didn't respond, so a Marine kicked him in the chest. Duvitis turned around, noticing the Quarian behind him. He took a step back as he noticed her blood inching toward his foot.

"And a suit rat." He turned his sights to the three Terran soldiers in the kitchen, then back down at Palio, "How typical. These _humans_ are no better than the Batarians. Forcing their slaves to fight for them."

"They were our liberators!" Palio spoke out on the floor.

Duvitis looked at him, his mandibles spread out in confusion, before contracting them and smiled, "That's what they told you? Of course. They are but masters of manipulation. They lied their way right onto the Council!"

He turned over and looked at him, "You started this unjust war, you barefaced bastards! I would have thought Fedorian and the Hierarchy would at least have the honor to declare war first!"

"The Hierarchy? No!" He began chuckling, "You don't understand. This war is just but Fedorian and Cassiud's fools wouldn't believe it. We have _Causa Belli_! You heard what we said, what we know! Now, it seems difficult to understand, but once we take Shanxi and show our proof to the galaxy, the entire galaxy shall join the great Turian Nation and liberate poor fools like you!"

"Turian… Nation?"

"You've been brainwashed! Our brethren, made to think they are this ridiculous thing called 'Terran'. But I cannot blame you. We were all lost once…" He gestured over to Yana, "Look at her. The humans made her think she could be liberated from confinement. They think they can judge who is right and wrong. Look at her. Dying on this dirty Terran ground. That was her fate for joining them!"

"She is my wife, you monster!"

"Wife? Monster? My, how lost you are. But soon, you will see. When we free you from this world, you'll see just how poisoned your mind is from our grand cause."

In the kitchen, Kim regained consciousness, stiff in his armor. He turned his eyes in his helmet, seeing the room full of Turian Marines. He concentrated and regained control of his arm. He looked down, seeing a remote detonator a bit from him.

Palio struggled to speak, "Go to hell."

"You must understand," Duvitis pulled out his pistol, "That is what we are doing! This hell called the United Terran Federation! Primarch Arterius kicked down the gates and we charged right in. We are your liberators!" He turned back to Yana. "And we are here to end the suffering caused by these humans. Even for the likes of her."

"Wait, no!" He reached out, but a Marine promptly stomped on his wrist.

Duvitis took aim at her and fired three rounds into her. She died right there, still staring aimlessly at Palio with her wide grey eyes.

"Yana!"

Kim reached for his chest, a few packets of explosives in his compartment. Without detection, he armed them and tried to reach for the detonator.

"Take him away. Make sure he learns the errors of his way, and that those he killed, they died for the cause!"

He laid his head on the ground, crying. "I'm sorry Yana. I'm sorry Decmius."

Realizing he couldn't reach it, Kim turned to Palio across from him, their last hope. He made one last struggle and leaned forward to slap the detonator across the floor to him. The Marines turned to see as it slid across, right into the talon pinned to the floor. Palio opened his eyes, quickly grabbing it as he realized what he must do.

"What's going on?" demanded Duvitis as he turned back.

Palio looked up at him. He shouted out his all his remaining might, now filled with rage and grief, "I die for the Terran Cause! We die for Terra! You barefaced, motherfucking, bosh'tet!"

"Wait, no!"

Decmius stopped half way through the field and turned back, yelling for his parents. After a little while, he grew fed up and began running back. He'd run away before, but he wasn't going to run away from those who showed him care and compassion.

As he started heading back, the house exploded in a massive blast. It smashed the surrounding houses and the concussion spread out through the fields. The fields of wheat bent with the blast and Decmius barely ducked to the ground as it cut through above. He looked up, realizing what had just exploded.

"Mom! Dad!"

He sprinted with all his might and reached the edge of the field. In front of him was the smoking ruin of his house, his first true home. He yelled out for Yana and Palio. The only response was the sounds of the still raging battle.

"Mom! Dad!"

After a moment, he dropped to his knees. He stared ahead, unseeing and unable to comprehend what was happening. He could feel the burning heat from the direction of his house and it only added to the pain. They were gone. His new life was gone.

A few Marines then appeared, surveying the wreckage. They looked around and noticed the young Turian boy. They attempted to approach but without warning, he jumped up and ran off back into the field. He had to get away and find someone who would help him, now that he had nothing. No, that was not true. All he had left was what he started off with. A sliver quarter around his neck that served as a source of hope.

* * *

 **Thirty Five Minutes pass Zero Hour**

Driving down the only road for kilometers around, two Turian fighter-bombers gave chase to the convoy. They swerved about as they tried to line up, Harper opened fire on them to keep them from lining up the shot. Hislop manned the wheel and drove in as much of a zigzag as possible on the narrow road. The soldiers in the trucks of the convoy joined in as well, unleashing an upward hail of fire at the fighter. One was struck a critical blow and broke off towards the fields. The other began to prematurely fire at them, hoping to hit one, but a Terran fighter swept in and shot it down with a burst of phaser plasma fire.

" _Harper, Hislop!_ "

Harper turned forward to the convoy lead and opened his comm. He yelled out through the noise of the growing battle around them, "General!"

" _Harper. We're nearing a junction. I need to regroup and form field ops in Pingyao. But you have your mission. Head the other way and get to the spaceport. Get off Shanxi!_ "

"But, sir!"

" _That's an order._ " His jeep swerved past debris as the next air battle above grew in size. " _I'll win the battle down here. But you know what to do. Win the war. The only one that matters!_ "

A bright flash came from their forward left. They all turned to see the same damaged fighter reappear, coming right for them. Several of the forward trucks swerved to get out of its path. Hislop did the same, but it was too late to dodge. Harper grabbed him and they jumped off the moving Humvee and into a ditch. The fighter crashed into the Humvee and plowed through the road and field of crops.

The two agents rolled down the ditch and into a field of wheat. As they lay on the ground, two Turian shuttles dropped from the sky and quickly leveled off near the crashed fighter. Noticing the agents, one broke off and rushed over to their position. Its hatch opened and a squad of Turian Nation Marines dropped down into the chest high wheat. Harper rolled over, only to be greeted by a Turian solider standing over him, the business end of a Phaeston rifle aimed at Harper's head.

* * *

 **Federal Intelligence Agency**

Agent Status Report – Eva Coré – CH21852812

Status: Conducting Field Operation

Location: Unknown

Summary Report:

Since joining the agency in 2153, Agent Coré has emerged as one our finest field agents. Her record before makes her abilities perfectly clear. She was first in her class in the Army Academy, she is well adept in social and political workings, and still ranks in the top percentile for physical combat. Though given her record as a militia fighter during the Revival, her abilities were developed long before she was on any agency's radar.

In recent years, her skills have become a very valuable asset as we expand out in the galaxy and establish contact with the alien powers. Immediately, her in-field leadership during the Skyllian Blitz assisted in securing Terran Intelligence control of hegemony space. These included full counteraction of Hegemony Intelligence in cooperation with Military Intelligence and the dismantling of Council Intelligence networks, including Spectre and STG.

At her current status, the agency has opted to continue to keep her as a field agent. She was passed over two promotions due to a requirement of extraction from the field. We are confident that she can perform at her peak in this arrangement. In special arrangement with Military Intelligence Leader General Williams, she is one of our few agents with self-prerogative; reporting on major events with the Director, and the head of Military Intelligence on assignments she deems necessary for her involvement.

* * *

 **Terran Wikipedia**

(By the Authority of the Federal Communications Committee, this article has been doctored in accordance to the 'Orwellian Freedom Act' to ensure non-biased and informative information for the Terran People.)

 **Great Revival**

"The Great Revival" and "Terran Civil War" redirect here. For the Colonial Great Revival, see "Colonial Golden Age". For other uses, see The Great Revival (disambiguation).

 **Date** : 22 April 2147 – 10 September 2150 (3 years, 4 months and 20 days)

 **Location** : Earth and orbital locations, orbital locations of Mars, moon system of Jupiter, orbital location of Venus, orbital location of Pluto, Asteroid Belt, Charon Mass Relay.

 **Result** : Federation Victory

Elimination of Rebel Forces on Earth and Sol.

Elimination of Counter-Ideological Forces on Earth.

Elimination of Fundamentalist Forces on Earth.

The end of the Colonial Golden Age.

The end of the Era of Exploration.

The end of the Earth-Centric policy of the Federation.

Massive massatanium contamination of Earth.

The expansion of the Federal government.

The beginning of the Post-Revival Era.

The start of the attempt of the Great Dissolve.

 **Participants:**

The United Terran Federation

The Rebellion (Multiple Factions)

 **Commanders and Leaders:**

Main Terran Leaders:

Terran President Rochet Vetrol

RASA Chairman Jacklin Romanov

GEU Chancellor Michele Humbert

United Sol Governor Rizen Lee

Main Rebellion Leaders:

Colonel Randell Bernard (Free American Union)

Premier Mikhail Stalin (Grand People's Revolution)

Grand Master Jospeh Fitzgerald (Kingdom of Christian Crusaders)

Grand Chancellor Andrew Hemingway (The Terran Reich)

General Javier Santiago (Sovereign People of Terra)

Sultan Abdul Yessar (Grand Islamic State)

 **Casualties and losses:**

Terran:

Military Dead: Over 150,000,000

Civilian Dead: Over 400,000,000

Total Dead: Over 550,000,000 (including Fallen Angel Deployment losses)*

Rebellion:

Military Dead: Over 450,000,000

Civilian Dead: Over 200,000,000

Total Dead: Over 650,000,000 (including Fallen Angel Deployment losses)*

The Great Revival (also known as the Terran Civil War) was a massive internal conflict centered on Earth during the latter half of the 2140s. This war saw massive ground warfare across every major location on Earth and tremendous battles scattered across the Sol System. The war pitted the full might of the United Terran Federation against multiple radical factions that sprang up on Earth. The war was the single most widespread war since World War II, and saw greater global loss of life than the combination of wars that occurred during the Great Decay of the 21st century. The Great Revival saw about massive political, social, and economical changes in Humanity with the effects still being felt strongly today. Only with First Contact has its effect weakened in the face of new challenges in the galaxy.

 **Section 1: Background**

Since the formation of the United Earth in 2110, there was a massive push for further unification. Such unification would have placed Earth and all her superpowers' colonies under one central government. This resulted in two major blocs in the Assembly Unification Convention, whose members would later be known as the Founders. One bloc was led by PAC Representative Hung Chen Lin and RASA Representative Althea Bishop, who threw their support behind an early draft of the Constitution of the United Terran Federation. The other bloc was led by UE Secretary General Thomas Anderson, who supported the proposed charter for the alternative form of government: the purposed Terran Systems Alliance.

At this time, the UE was poised to bring about, as quoted by Garret Madison, "A social and mental state of unity among Humanity". This placed the task of uniting the people directly under the idea for full unification on the UE. While most people from the major powers supported this, many in the smaller groups were against the two proposed forms of unifications, claiming they would suppress individual and smaller social identity. Equally, the turmoil of the Great Decay throughout the 21st century and the backlash of the Great Liberation in the 2080s meant many were distrustful of the others on the grounds of race, religion, or political standing.

As the two main blocs competed for public approval, many later Founders were set on making sure that such elements of Humanity did not endanger the race as it expanded. As new colonies were founded, thanks to the unanticipated multi-national success of Eden Prime, selection of new colonists expanded with new criteria. This included aspects such as religious attitudes, ideological preference, and general loyalty to their current sponsor superpower and the later Unified Government. Since this came at a time when colonial expansion was a top priority for the world powers, this screening saw millions of moderate minded people leaving Earth, creating an imbalance in social and political leaning.

Many radical groups were angered, as they believed they were left on Earth while the UE sent the best, and most agreeable, humans to expand across the stars. In a move to appease supporters on Earth, the Alliance Bloc placed new provisions in its charter, which would allow any person to leave Earth and colonize where they pleased, all without government support or even approval. However, in 2124, the Alliance bloc suffered its killing blow when Anderson changed his position in a sudden move and joined the Federation bloc, stating the need for a strong and definitive central government as, "... greater than all else. Mankind must be strong and united to survive against what lies ahead." Without his support, the Alliance bloc fell apart, and the Federation Constitution was passed and ratified on May 25, 2125. Combined with the _post-facto_ decision to create an executive branch, one that Anderson would later serve as its first President, his defection would be seen in later years as the betrayal that ensured continued unrest on Earth.

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/

*Hello everyone! Thanks again for reading this chapter of the _Terran Gambit_. My apologies for this very late delivery. School work is building up, and I have my focus during my spare time between this story, my current side story, and my newest one in the works, I must admit there would be a delay for the next few chapters. Just as well, this chapter and the next few will be a bit harder for me to flesh out. Thank you all for bearing with me. Your support means so much. If I failed to respond to some comments you may have left, you have my sincere apologies.

Just as well, I have began some minor corrections in earlier chapters to clear up grammar and narrative issues. I'm no writer by trade, and it has been both through writing this story and your feedback that have taught me to improve this story and my writing ability. To all the readers and fellow writers who read and contacted me, your constructive criticism and support have been very helpful and appreciated. And to everyone reading, thanks for your time and interest in my story!

And let me know if you think I should structure my Author's Note like this or if you like the 'poem style' format, and if you prefer longer worded chapters or shorter ones. I would love feedback! I can only learn from others and what they do as well.

So, as always, thanks for reading and please feel free to review and comment. I welcome all constructive comments, for I always aim to improve my writing! If you got any questions, always feel free to add it to a review, or PM me. I be glad to answer!

* * *

Posted on September 4, 2017 - Beta-read by MoonSword1994


	32. 31: My Center is Giving Way - Part 1

**Chapter Thirty-One:** ** **Part 1:** My Center is Giving Way…**

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/

Hey Everyone!

Sorry for that incredibly long delay.  
Let's dive into the story, and I'll explain at the end.

This is Part One of the Battle of Shanxi.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

* * *

 _Why do we, a space faring race, need an army? I asked the Turians that once. How true, yet pitifully simplistic, their answer was, "Always there has been one, always there will be one." Why need a world-bound Army, when the star-bound Navy controls the stars? Why need a static army, when maneuverable Marines can take worlds with ease? Why have a target on the ground for orbital bombardment?_

 _Well, let me ask. Where is home, huh? Where is everything we need to live and expand our civilization? Since we formed the first cities, our home is on solid ground and firm earth. But our future is out there! A race born on the ground will live by two facts: They must expand into the stars to survive and they must hold the ground below to thrive. Most wars, in human history as it is in galactic history, are fought to claim and take someone's home, what they have and cherish most, and make it your own. Whether they be the conquests of Alexander, the expansion of the Roman and British Empires, or the idea of Lebensraum, to threats of the ancient Rachni and the expansion of the Krogan, people want space, resources, and whatever else you have._

 _On the defense, we saw perfectly clear in the past wars, from the Revival on Earth, to the Scourge over Palaven, that navies can be defeated and driven back, and marines are too few to hold the ground. If we lose worlds, we lose our home. If we had lost Earth in the Revival, Terra and the Federation would have died with her. A good army can hold worlds, and a prepared army can withstand Naval blockades or Marine raiders._

 _On the offense, to conquer a world is as much a strategic matter as it is a tactical one. An old general once said that war is but a game. I would sadly agree, for we play this game, and you, the future leaders, play them for the highest of stake: The fate of nations, and the lives of your soldiers. Navies can transport and support you, Marines can open beachheads, but it's the Army that brings worlds… nations, under your control. Conquer or liberate, you can't rule a world from above. You need boots on the ground, a statement true since the beginning of man._

 _So even in this age in space, as nations span the cosmos, there will always be fighting. Machines of war are the right arm of any power. But down at its core, to take what matters most, is one man fighting another. It's the soldier and his shield and sword that all else is built from. They are the basis that keeps our homes. The shield defends and the sword strikes. As officers of Terra, carry them proudly. Shall your shield never break, and your sword always pierce._

 **A segment of a speech given by Retired General Joshua Weatherman to the Terran Army Academy Graduating Class of 2175: June 30, 2175.**

* * *

 **GW** : Shanxi?

 _AW_ : I heard talks of Hadley's plan to remilitarize the planet. Revive 'Williams' Line'.

AR: My God, why would he do that? We already lost our standing with the Guzman Ruling last month. Udina trying to claim the presidency for himself created the greatest succession crisis since Bowman. Forming up that useless line would just piss off the Turians… Not to mention it's not even close to the border anymore.

 _AW_ : Like everyone on Arcturus, he's still reacting from the vote for the scourge. Guzman spent eight years trying to back away from his role. Hadley regrets nothing, the psychotic bastard. Making my job harder.

AR: You know, Debra, it should be you on Arcturus. The nation must be hitting itself in the head.

 **GW** : The greatest voter's remorse since Vetro became president.

 _AW_ : Well Dad, Andrew. I'm still disappointed myself. When Guzman appointed Bishop, I thought he was handing me the election. That and every other disaster during his term. Though I doubt even he saw this happening.

 **GW** : But _c'est la vie_ … Come, a drink to President Hadley! At least he isn't Vetro.

AR: Something we can agree to for once.

 _AW_ : And the bar keeps on lowering…

 **Section 14 Surveillance: Private Conversation between General Weatherman, Ambassador Weatherman, and Admiral Roland at the Citadel Terran Embassy during President Hadley's State of the Federal Union Address - January 15, 2176 - Time Frame: 30 Minutes before the Arcturus Bombing.**

* * *

 **Part 1:**

 **Outskirts of Beijing, China  
Day 107 of the Great Revival  
August 6, 2147**

" _Ambush, ambush!"_

" _This is Lieutenant Hsu, Thirty-third Militia Army. Rebel forces have launched a surprise attack on outpost Zhou. Requesting assistance, over."_

" _This is Major Averil, Twelfth Marine Division. Marine support is preparing for orbital drop. Confirm drop point, over."_

" _Outpost Zhou has been overrun; Rebel forces have entered Beijing proper. We have lost contact with General Williams. He was coordinating forces in that area of the city for an attack. I'm rallying the militia to point Yankee. Change drop point to ten clicks over, north by northwest, over."_

" _Overrun? Wait, General Williams was there? I repeat, all active units. Does anyone have contact with General Williams?"_

"Averil, this is Williams!"

He held onto the frame of the truck he was in as it raced through the battlefield, trying to report in as he bounced around. Their section of the city was being overrun by reformed Communist forces originating from the countryside. They drove through the cross fire of the rebels and the Terran militia, consisting of the reorganized forces of the Pan-Asian Coalition Military. They were battling Communist rebel forces that were launching an assault on the city. As his driver drove through the battle, he stayed on the radio, standing up in his seat to survey the battlefield.

" _Edward! What on Earth are doing there?!_ "

"I'm leading the troops!" he said as he pulled out his M2111 pistol and fired wildly at the Communist forces.

" _My god, are you insane!? You're supposed to be in a hospital in Tokyo. And you are an Intelligence officer, not a combatant!_ "

Williams' driver made a hard right, avoiding an old 21st Century Russian Armata tank the rebels had in the streets. Its turret began turning to them. Williams ducked as the truck rammed through street stands in the capital of old China, all while the tank fired of its auto gun, trying to hit them. One round blew up the foundation of a multi-story store, and they narrowly drove right under the collapsing building before it crumbled onto the street.

The driver, a militia conscript, turned back, cursing "Holy Shit!" to himself in a mix of Native Mandarin and Terran English.

Williams looked back for a moment in amazement. He burst into laughter and reached for the radio, "How hard could that be?"

Averil's patience with his friend and ranking officer was finished, " _Are you fucking mad?! You could face a tribunal for this, Edward. You are not some Napoleonic officer on horseback. This is war! You are a desk officer, and a desk officer in battle is no different than cannon fodder!_ "

Williams took the comment personally, "I am a full ranking general, Major! I know what I'm doing!" His truck took another sharp turn; nearly throwing Williams from his seat as he held onto the wired radio and doorframe, "Just prepare reinforcements on my position! I'll drive the Commies out of Beijing myself!" Williams turned to his driver, "Corporal, what's our location?"

He looked around, keeping head low to avoid cross fire as he drove through the rubble of the city. "Two clicks from the staging-"

A stray round struck him through his helmet and he dropped head dead on the wheel. The truck swerved right with its horn loud and slammed into an advancing rebel squad, driving through them before Williams could grab the wheel. One rebel soldier, dressed in nothing more but simple black clothing and body armor, was pinned to the hood. As Williams regained some control, the rebel climbed up onto the hood and tried to pull his rifle out.

"God damn it!"

In a panic, Williams dropped his radio and pulled out his pistol, firing through the windshield. He missed and the rebel managed to sit up to aim his old rifle at him. Just then, an orbital deployment pod came straight down and slammed into the pavement, just meters in front of the truck. Instantly, the truck slammed head long into it. With thickened armor, the pod held firm, but the truck split into two. Williams was thrown through the windshield and the rebel was knocked off the hood.

Williams hit the ground and tumbled into a shelled-out crater in the city road. He slid hard to the bottom and blacked out as the battle above renewed with Marines pouring in directly from orbit to join the fight. But on the edge, a man appeared at the top of the crater, crawling forward in.

He slid down and quickly jumped on Williams, knife in hand. Williams reacted quickly enough to grab his arm and hold the knife from plunging into his chest. The rebel leaned onto his hands, shifting the knife close to Williams' face. The inexperienced general looked at the rusty blade slowly inch closer to his face, unable to stop it.

Just then, there was a gunshot. Williams saw the rebel flinch for a moment in surprise. His head and body leaned forward, but his push towards Williams' face stopped. He managed to push him off and to the side, where there was another person at the edge of the crater.

She jumped in and slid feet first towards him. Clad in power armor and with a Terran KC-10 in hand, she ran up to pull Williams from the ground.

"General!" She opened up her forward faceplate to reveal herself and communicate clearly, "Captain Tracy Makajima, 12th Marine 'Hell Divers' Division. I'm here to extract you. Are you okay?"

Williams turned his head to the dead rebel who was just lying beside him a moment ago. After a moment to regain his senses and catch his breath, he gave a short nod. "I-I'll be okay. Let's go, Captain."

"Yes, sir!" She closed her helmet and helped Williams out of the crater, "This is India-1-actual, General secured. Bring a shuttle in for extract."

" _Roger that. I'm heading over personally, Averil out._ "

She pointed and directed Williams to cover as they got out. Around them, the militia launched a counter attack, their line now strengthened by heavily armored Terran Marines. Williams, dazed, looked around as the poorly equipped rebels were mowed down by the modernized Marines. The battle seemed won, but the war was far from over.

* * *

 **Part 2:**

 **General Partinax  
Fort Bao  
One Hour Past Zero Hour  
September 4, 2168 08:00:00 UTC**

The last few shuttles rushed from orbit towards the captured Fort Bao. Below, Turian soldiers secured the grounds as the Marines departed with APCs to support the attack on the capital city, on the other side the valley. One shuttle pulled away from the rest that were dropping off supplies and troops near the entrance and began its landing sequence near a group of officers. They were waiting for the VIP inside.

The shuttle landed and the officers greeted the commanding general and his Blackguard escort.

"General Partinax, sir!" They quickly saluted him. The leading officer, a major, stepped away from his staff.

"Major…" He looked around for a moment, a bit confused, "Where is Colonel Duvitis?"

The Major responded, "Sir, Colonel Duvitis was killed while over watching the troops secure the town of Bao, just down the hill. As per regulation, I have taken command and continued with our assault, awaiting your arrival."

Partinax gave a small nod in acknowledgement and checked his omni-tool, "How was the Colonel killed?"

"Well, he was accompanying a platoon of troops who were suppressing civilian resistance in the town. A house he was investigating was destroyed in an explosion."

"That is unfortunate."

The Major continued, "The house belonged to a Turian. A Terran National. We think he killed Duvitis."

Partinax nodded slightly, thinking about that. He wondered to himself if the Colonel was fooled into thinking a Turian on this world would so easily join them. A single tour in the Terminus could teach even the most sheltered conscript from Palaven that loyalty to race had little baring in the galaxy. The very enemy he was fighting worked on that premise.

"Very unfortunate… What's our current situation?"

The Major opened up his omni-tool and a large holographic map of the valley, "Terran forces have been overrun across the valley. Two Marine companies have begun urban combat in their capital of Pingyao, and forward recon have the spaceport under siege." The Major smiled with confidence, "If we keep up our momentum, we'll have the port within the hour and be able to land the remainder of our invasion force."

Partinax continued to be inwardly puzzled, keeping a calm stoic face outward as he looked around the ruins of the fort.

"And General Williams?"

"Williams? Ah, the Terran commander! He escaped during our surprise attack on the fort. He could be anywhere in the valley by now."

"Well then," He took out a small pair of digital binoculars from his armor storage and proceeded to walk over to a hole at a broken section of the fort's wall. Beyond it was a ridge overlooking the entire valley. "Follow me, Major. We need to access the new current situation."

"But we're already winning."

"That's what Williams wants us to think, Major. If there's one thing the Terrans love, it's snagging victory from the jaws of defeat. But we'll make sure to shut those jaw right on their neck!"

* * *

 **Outskirts of Pingyao City  
First Day of the Turian Vendetta  
One Hour Past Zero Hour  
September 4, 2168 08:00:00 UTC**

" _Turian forces have begun their assault of the western downtown area!"_

" _Where the hell is armor?"_

" _Tenth and Twelfth armor companies are en route from Fort Chengbao. ETA to rally point Bravo in ten minutes."_

" _This is Warsaw-1. Relaying message for orbit, friendly Marine forces from the Second are prepping for deployment."_

" _The Second Fleet? What the hell happened to Sol Fleet?"_

" _This is the Third Militia. We have made contact with an advance scout force! Five click from Apollo Base and the spaceport! Requesting support!"_

" _This is Frost, Fort Bao is lost, defense line alpha is lost. Reestablish command at Apollo Base!_

" _This is attack copter Kiev-3. We have confirmation of Hierarchy forces enclosing on the Memorial park. Hunter-3 is requesting additional ground support to aid civilian evacuation."_

" _This is Major Jamison, Gatherer-2-Actual, First Platoon. We are moving to their position. Message from Frost: Does anyone have visual on Zeus, over?"_

Through the gunfire and explosions, Zaeed regained himself as the battle raged on. Lying in a blown-out crater, his tried to pick himself up, but quickly ducked back down as gunfire filled the air. Around him, the 3rd Ranger Battalion was engaging a Turian force that had secured the bridge into the city. He turned over, seeing the destroyed vehicle he was thrown out of minutes ago. Through the dust, someone came running towards him, with a scar across his left eye, and a grey coat with a golden star on it.

He jumped into the crater and slid down. Before reaching Zaeed, he turned over and fired at a Turian that had broken through the line from the bridge above. As the Turian fell into the crater, he pulled Zaeed up.

"Get up, Sergeant!" Williams pulled him and pointed over to the river with his revolver, "Rangers lead the way! Now go!"

He nodded and quickly got out, running to his squad along the riverbank. He hit the ground behind cover and activated his Lancer, opening up the small scope at the back. He joined his squad behind the brick railing and laid down suppressing fire at the Turians at the other side of the river.

There was a platoon's worth across the river, around fifty-meters wide. They were an advanced force that landed to probe the city lines, having failed to account for retreating Terran forces from Fort Bao. With the unanticipated landing at Fort Bao instead of the spaceport, and the annihilation of the first air wing that was supposed to prevent it, the Turians had succeeded in scrambling the Terran lines. The entire colonized subcontinent, a valley of one hundred square kilometers wide was in disarray as the Turians landed all over to confuse the Terrans. But it came at a cost. They lacked both Naval and mechanized support, as well as a definitive beachhead. And the Terrans were quick to adapt.

"There, there! Sniper!"

A Batarian-Terran, taking cover behind an abandon car, leveled his Mantis rifle on the window frame and took aim. He targeted a Turian scout sniper on the upper level of the riverbank, closing two eyes on his left and blocking his upper right eye with a visor dimmer, and fired. The rounded drifted, hitting a street lamp next to the sniper and snapping it in two.

Zaeed turned back to his sniper, bewildered by the miss. "Damn it, Tabco! You have four eyes, use them!"

"You don't have to point out the obvious!"

He took aim again, firing another magnetically propelled marble sized round through it barrel. It burned through the air at hypersonic speeds, drifting only a few centimeters from drop. This time, the round flew true and nailed the Turian in the head. The sniper quickly fell over and tumbled down the slopes bank to the lower side of the bank.

"Sniper down."

"Fan-fucking-tastic," Zaeed turned to the rest of his squad. He looked at his Lancer for a moment, realizing his need for more firepower to dislodge the other side. "Echo Squad!"

Holst ducked back down behind the rock wall to reload a new battery. "Sergeant?"

"Everyone, prep Lancers! Concussion shots over the river! Flush them out!"

Holst nodded and signaled the others to prep the secondary barrel of their weapons. He turned to Tabco, "Spot us! Wind direction and distance."

He checked his scope again. The average Terran solider, with the standard tech provided, had basic range finders. But the modern squad sniper, needing to spot for themselves on the frontline, had the technology to gather more accurate data and variables. Though they had dumb AI target assist, the final aim was at their direction.

"Main squad is… fifty-three meters away. Wind parallel to river downward… ten kph! Marking with laser, sending magnetic resonance fields data!"

Zaeed turned to his squad and raised his rifle. "Echo, sync up and take aim. Twenty degrees, thirty meters toward, five to the left! Let the computers do the rest!"

The entire squad of six riflemen took aim, aiming upward. The other soldiers around them kept firing, suppressing the Turians. Echo aimed their rifles up, readying a volley.

"Fire!"

They fired; all launched an explosive concussive round into the air and over the river. Each one was a much larger shredded ball of tungsten-lead, with a solid magnetic shell that was synced to a special magnetic frequency that surrounded a heat endured molten core. The six rounds coursed through the air, reaching their peak height. Then the round locked onto the unique resonance of each of the Turian Marine's armor.

From their arc trajectory, they rushed for their designated targets in a fast, straight line. In moments, they made their marking, exploding in contact with their kinetic barriers. The blast also staggered them from cover, where a volley of hypersonic marble rounds from across the river shredded them up.

"Get some, you damn skullie birds!"

A few meters back, Williams was behind a broken car, patching his watch into a long-range radio a soldier was lugging with him. The radioman was wisely taking cover next to him, keeping his head low. But Williams simply looked around in annoyance as mass accelerated rounds flew by him.

"This is Zeus. Calling all available aerial support. My escort is pinned on the eastern side of the Rolin Bridge. Requesting an air run on the west end."

An attack gunship responded, " _This is Kiev-1. Raptor support is moving to your position. Command IFF is offline, please flash local IFF on…_ "

"Fighter inbound! Evade! Evade!" yelled another gunship pilot.

Williams turned around as two Turian fighters flew low, past the bridge and along the river, deeper into the city. The sound of explosions came from their direction, followed by the line going dead as the same two Turian fighter flew straight up over the city. But they were quickly taken out in a vengeance by a barrage of missiles as a wing of Terran fighters flew by.

"Kiev? Kiev! Calling all assets. This is Zeus. My escort is pinned on the eastern end of the Rolin Bridge. Requesting aid to be diverted to my position, over!"

As he waited for a reply, a squad of Turians crossed the bridge and took aim at the Terran position along the bank. Williams turned around and fired up at them. His rounds missed, but the sound of the old weapon firing caused the others below to turn and fire at the enemy. Another commander got on the radio.

" _This is Warlock-1. Nineteenth Armored Company. We are nearing your position from the other side of the river. Hold position._ "

"Roger War-"

Williams was interrupted sharp punctures into the car he was standing beside. The Turian squad on the bridge had quickly identified him and opened fire. The opportunity to immediately take out the Terran general was one they couldn't miss. But Williams didn't take kindly to that.

He reloaded and fired again. As he fired with one hand, he grabbed the Lance of his radioman, who was pinned behind cover. He raised the rifle with his left arm and fired a concussion shot at the bridge. The unguided round flew straight into the railing of the bridge and blew out its support. Everyone watched as it gave way and the part of the bridge fell, taking the Turians with it.

"Roger Warlock, Zeus out!" he said, finishing his sentence, and tossing the rifle back to his radioman. He turned back to the bride as the remains of the convoy retook their position at their end of the bridge. He holstered his revolver and dusted himself off. "Damn dust. It's North Africa all over again…"

He turned to the riverbank on the other side. From a street corner heading inward, a Terran Panther tank emerged and broke through, rolling onto the boulevard bordering the river. With a low-profile body and a large turret featured a 100mm magnetic rail cannon and two auto-guns on each side, the Panther quickly made it presence known. The Turians turned around when they heard the armored beast approaching. Lightly armed forward scouts, they stood no chance against the newly incorporated hybrid energy/kinetic shielding, and their short-range explosive munitions were brushed off by the sheer thickness of the titanium-uranium plates.

The Panther turned its turret and opened fire with its coaxial machine gun, spraying down the lower river bank with magnetic accelerated fire as the two auto-guns fired at the Turians. When a Turian APC took aim, it's smaller and quick firing mass accelerated gun fired. Four rounds were brushed away by its dual shields, and then the Panther took aim and fired its larger gun. The semi-molten slug quickly bashed through the APC's shield and armor.

The Terrans on the other side cheered at the sight of their mechanized creation making quick work of the Turians. The battle still was clearly one sided. The Turians had yet to land any real armor to match.

" _Warlock-1 reporting. We'll take point, Zeus. Over._ "

The tank rolled up the onramp and took point on the bridge road heading back into the city.

"Roger, Warlock." Williams walked over to his soldiers and pointed over to the walkway up to the bridge. "Let's go, Rangers! We're Oscar mike!"

* * *

 **Part 3:**

 **Admiral Fedorian and Ambassador Quentius  
THV **_**Proficio -**_ **Rubico System  
Fifty Minutes Past Zero Hour  
September 4, 2168 07:50:00 UTC**

"We found them, sir! It's the Twenty Ninth Fleet!"

From his office, Admiral Fedorian and Ambassador Quentius rushed out and onto the CIC. In the past few hours, Fedorian had been doing everything he could to gather a loyal force from across the Hierarchy. With all outgoing communications and relays blockaded, and much of the inner infrastructure locked down, he had little choice.

"Captain, give me an updated report of the fleet," said Fedorian as he took position at his station.

The Captain gathered an updated manifest and walked over to give it to him. "Admiral, we have done our best getting communications through the Nation's blackout—"

Fedorian slammed his fist on the console, "Do _not_ refer to them by that self-bestowed name. They are traitors to the true Hierarchy!"

"Apologies," he said, startled by Fedorian's reaction, "Anyway, we have recruited squadrons from across the Hierarchy. Unfortunately, the blackout is wreaking havoc on communications. We're only four hundred strong. But we have five dreadnoughts and battle cruisers from the First Fleet."

"Fedorian. Admiral Lavatia has her entire fleet in this system, along with two thousand more ships," said Quentius, "We can't take them on."

"If we lose this system, Arterius will have an endless reserve of defecting ships and soldiers for his war. And if we don't act now, the Terrans will blame us for this."

Another officer reported in, "Sir, the Flotilla is holding position outside hyperspace sensor range. They don't know we're here."

"Send the order to the fleet. Attack position Delta. We will strike at their core and crush their rebellion. The rest will surely surrender."

"Yes, sir."

Fedorian leaned against the railing of his station, resting his head in his talons. His head ached from the stress of the situation, and seemed perpetually in shock over what happened these past few hours. He felt a sinking feeling within him as he readied to escalate the split of the Turian Military into a full civil war.

"We have a fleet right over Palaven," commented Quentius as he surveyed his own console, "Cassiud would have sent reinforcement in all directions, even to Council Space."

Fedorian paused, before responding, "He is not a proactive man… not anymore… and Quentius?"

"Admiral?"

"I, uh... My staff is short on officers. I need a commander for the Third Flotilla."

Quentius nodded to him, understanding what the younger man was asking of the retired diplomat. Anyone that was left for the Hierarchy was needed.

"Of course, Tiberius. I'll make my way to the _Korvus_."

"Welcome back to the Navy."

He made his way to the elevator. The doors slid open and General Radoria rushed out.

"Where in the spirits are you going?" he demanded of the ambassador.

Quentius walked in, giving the passing remark, "I've been drafted."

"What do you mean, Quentius—?"

"That's 'Admiral' to you, Iconis. Shuttle Bay One."

The doors slid closed in front of him.

* * *

 **Admiral Lavatia and General Victus  
THV **_**Widow's Wrath**_

"Admiral, we have a fleet of ships on sensors. They are holding position about a quarter light year from the mass relay."

Admiral Lavatia turned to the former head of the Turian Hierarchy Research and Development.

"You were right, Victus. They are here. And a lot faster than even Primarch Arterius expected."

He walked over to her from around the command table in the back, "Never underestimate Fedorian, ma'am. And do not confuse his intentions." He opened upon a compressed amp of the system, "He will do whatever it takes to put an end of the Turian Nation."

She turned to the map and Fedorian's fleet. "He is outnumbered three to one. He can't win a straight up fight. And he isn't aware we already know he's here."

"If he attacks, he will be slaughtered."

She crossed her arms and contemplated, "If only he had joined us. He and Toma would have already been on their way to the Terran capital."

An officer reported in, "Hierarchy ships are spread out. He's preparing for a wide surprise attack."

Lavatia turned to him, "It's a waste of good lives."

Victus nodded, "May I remind you, Admiral," He tapped on the table, and opened up the command console for the hacking program, "We have the _Will of the Titans_. It's time we show him what the Terrans are facing."

* * *

 **Part 4:**

 **Admiral Roland and Staff  
FSS **_**Brighton -**_ **Arcturus Station  
Fifty Minutes Past Zero Hour  
September 4, 2168 07:50:00 UTC**

"Han? Why are you calling me?" asked Admiral Raan as she looked through Intel reports on the small command table at the back of the _Brighton_ 's bridge.

" _My ship is en route with the rest of the Fourth Fleet from the Terminus border. I was told you will be leading the charge for the Second,_ " said Admiral Gerrel, scratching the back of his grey hair covered head.

She shook her head at the thought of what was happening, "Ancestors… I can't believe the damn Turians are attacking us! We need to defend Shanxi if we are to halt their advance. They're days away from Arcturus if Shanxi falls!"

" _Yes… I'm aware. My ship will be transporting part of the First Army to help Williams hold Shanxi. Admiral Paris should be going you and Roland as an advance force._ "

Raan nodded to him, "Good. I'll send back word once we take the space way in the system."

"Yes, Mr. President! We are departing immediately." Admiral Roland said as he spoke into his earpiece, walking out from his ready room. "Staff officers to the table! We're leaving!" he ordered as he brought up his fleet manifest on the main command table on the bridge. The remaining staff officers gathered at the table as well. "Thomas, the Fleet, on the table."

She turned back to Gerral, "I need to go."

" _Wait, Shala!_ "

She looked at him, confused, "Yes, Han?"

" _Be careful, alright?_ "

She rolled her eyes, but smiled a little at his concern, "Of course. See you over Shanxi."

The Second Fleet prepared itself near a transwarp conduit in the Arcturus System, restructuring its formation to engage in combat as soon as they entered the fold. Arcturus Station was a few million kilometers away in the distance. Most of the Second Fleet had been gathered from Terra Nova, five thousand ships strong. But with news quickly coming in to command, the Fleet was being rushed to engage the enemy. As Raan finished her work on the rear table, Roland checked in with his admiralty staff across the fleet.

"Admiral Villyard, Admiral Canal, are the Flagships ready? I intend to push those birds back with full force," said Roland as he looked at several holo-screens.

"Yes Admiral Roland. Our ships are ready," answered Villyard.

"We'll be your escort, first through the fold."

"Excellent. Ready your crew, we will be departing shortly."

He disengaged the screens as his staff gathered at the table. Admiral Raan placed her face mask back on as she prepared for battle, and walked down the ramp to the center of the bridge, "Admiral Roland. Ships are in formation, ready for combat."

The helmsman reported in, "Admiral! Transwarp fold has been opened!"

He turned back to him, "Helmsman, full ahead!"

Roland turned to Thomas' avatar on the command table, awaiting orders.

"Thomas, have all AIs ready cyber warfare suites. Whatever they used to take out the Sol Fleet, we need disabled."

"Yes, sir, prepping all fleet AIs for combat."

Admiral Roland turned to his officers. Raan, Hanson, and a former Batarian Resistance member, Admiral Govok, stood around the table. A minute away from the fold, he opened comms and patched Admiral Paris in. His holo-avatar stood across the table from him.

Roland began addressing his immediate staff, "We've been fooled!"

"What?" asked Hanson.

Roland opened the information he received from President Bowman, "Our communications lines between Shanxi and Arcturus have been compromised. Intelligence believes the Sol Defense Fleet has been destroyed. Assumption stands that they have gained orbital control and are deploying ground side."

Raan spoke out, "How could we have received falsified data? Starbase 125 was giving a winning signal just five minutes ago! Every ship in that flotilla should have been able to tell us they were losing to Turian forces."

"The Terrans falsified command orders during the Blitz," replied Govok, "The Turians may have done the same."

" _How_ is not important!" Roland quickly stated, ending the sideline of speculation, "A thousand QEC particles detantalizing is disturbing enough proof. Shanxi is open for invasion. Admiral Paris."

Paris assumed the floor. "My flotilla has the Tenth Marine Division ready for deployment. We will need to regain at least 70% of orbital control to land…" He paused for a moment, looking at his own screen on board the troop carrier following behind the fleet.

Roland turned to him and stared, waiting for him to continue.

Paris noticed, "Uh… We will also need to reestablish contact and join up with Williams' army."

"And we will. I have confidence Williams will hold the planet. But our job is clear. We must take back all of the Taiyuan System itself!" replied Roland as he looked to his officers, "Given reports of the last Turian ship deployment before the blackout, they could not have rallied more than four thousand ships for this assault. We hold the numerical advantage once we arrive. If the Hierarchy thinks they can break through Williams' Line, we will prove them wrong!"

"Admiral Roland," said Admiral Hanson, "How did they get past the initial defenses? They should have held out far longer."

Roland crossed his arms and sighed, "We… we still don't know."

"Entering Transwarp Fold!" yelled the helmsman.

"But we will be ready, and we will put an end to it. This 'war' ends today!"

* * *

 **Admiral Parrus  
THV **_**Spirits of Illium**_

"Sir! We detected a spatial anomaly. Bearing 167 by 278, one million kilometers."

"That's off from where we told them to create that anomaly," said Toma as he watched alongside Parrus, "They might know of our program."

Admiral Parrus nodded, "No matter. If they engage us, then it means they don't know the full extent of our new ability… Prepare to engage. Surround their 'transwarp' tear. Sphere Formation, ten million kilometers holding distance. On my word, have them jump to a three hundred thousand kilometer radius to engage."

Another officer turned to him, "Sir, that's our maximum effective range against the Terrans. Our shots could very well miss!"

"They cannot possibly fight back effectively being constantly bombarded. Move the fleet quickly. We only need to rough them up and pin them here until the _Will of the Titans_ takes full control of their ships."

"Yes, sir!"

The Turian Nation Fleet quickly jumped to FTL, splitting off as they rushed to surround the Terran Second Fleet and the spatial tear they were coming through.

* * *

 **FSS** _ **Brighton**_

"Status report!"

"Scanning the system…" replied the Tactical Officer. Only a quick moment needed to go by before the new data arrived, far from what was expected. "Admiral!"

"What, Commander?"

"We're picking up over five thousand Turian Hierarchy vessels in the system. They appear spread out…"

"A thousand ships through the fold," reported the Helmsman.

Raan looked over to him, "Is the defense fleet really gone?"

"We are still… Admirals, the Turians have jumped to FTL… They're engaging us! A full sphere formation around us!"

Roland rushed to the helm, "They've already found us! Form up! They're trying to ambush!"

He turned to his crew, signaling an open comm with the entire fleet. The fate of Shanxi's defenders became clear; if the Turians could ambush them in mid-jump, there was no doubt about the fate of the Sol Flotilla. Right now, he needed to protect his fleet as they left the fold. The fold was near one thousand kilometers long, but was virtually two dimensional at only five kilometers tall. A natural choke point.

"We are detecting ships from all angles. They're trying to engulf the fold! Around four hundred thousand kilometers and closing!"

"Move up to ten thousand kilometers from the fold and form a counter sphere! Defend the fleet!"

Raan turned to the helmsman, "Turn broadside! Don't let a single round through!"

Taking position, the Terrans formed up in a sphere formation, creating a 'line' that encompassed the rear, while large enough for ships entering to maneuver into position. Hundreds of ships poured out the fold. The first was the mighty Terran Flagship and the plentiful battle cruisers accompanying them. Beyond them, the Turians formed their sphere; their armada of cruisers took position at the edge of their maximum effective range. As the Terrans pushed forward, they backed away to keep the range at the max.

This arbitrary limit was an always changing and calculating value. It varied by ship, and by what the target was. Against similar Council race ships, with agile mass effect engines, this range was small, as enemy ships of even larger sizes could maneuver with ease. This was true for the smaller Terran vessels. But against the Terrans largest, whose imposing size scared the galaxy a year ago was correctly deduced by those who could see past it as a weakness. They were slow and heavy, allowing the Turians to stay further away to fire, while preserving accuracy.

Equally so, the Terrans' doctrine never focused on this fact. Up close, their magnetic guns were deadly beyond compare, and their antimatter torpedoes could destroy ships with ease. Knife fighting range was always effective to the fleet with the most ships, best weapons, and smartest commanders. The Turians had a year to wise up, and knew better.

"Forty percent of fleet has emerged. They are moving in to expand the sphere," reported Admiral Hanson.

Admiral Raan turned to Roland, "The Turians are achieving a thirty percent accuracy against our incoming ships. We need to tighten our line!"

A round from a cruiser landed against the shields of the _Brighton_. She held, but the ship shook from the hit, "If we do that, we'll start losing the ships that have arrived."

Govok turned to Roland, "We need to push forward if we are to engage the Turians."

Roland walked back to the table and opened up a display of the fleet formation. Thousands of miniature ships appeared, forming a hollow sphere around the transwarp fold. The Turians appeared farther away in a similar sphere.

"Order all heavy ships to open fire with their guns," He pointed at the Turian formation, "Fully volley in every angle."

Hanson turned to him, surprised, "Sir, at their position, we won't hit anything. Our slugs are too slow!"

"But the Turians can't fire accurately while maneuvering!"

Govok spoke out, "Are you mad? Only fools fire rounds without accounting for where they might land!"

He pointed again at the Turian sphere formation, "We need to shatter that line so they can't get a bead on us." A single round landed on the _Brighton_ 's shields, sending an energy feedback across the ship. They held onto the table and nearby railing as consoles across the bridge sparked, "When we are at full strength, we'll throw them back into the relay itself!"

Hanson and Govok looked to each other for a moment, then turned back to Roland and nodded.

"Yes, sir."

"Raan, alert Paris' ships once it leaves the tear. He'll have to make a break for Shanxi."

* * *

 **THV** _ **Spirits of Illium**_

"Sir!" said a sensor officer at the forward half of the CIC, "The Terrans have opened fire!"

"Into open space? These pyjaks are a desperate bunch." Parrus turned to the Fleet Communications Officer, "Keep distance and avoid those rounds. I do not want to lose a ship to a slow, unaccounted for round!"

"Yes, sir!"

The Comms Officer opened a fleet communiqué to the Turian Nation Fleet. "All ships fall back to point Tico. Maintain evasive stance and continue firing."

The Turian fleet began to fall back, each individual ship moving in a controlled erratic pattern. In front of them, the Terrans pushed forward. From the tear, the Terran Second Fleet came in, rushing to form the line to drive the push. Tens of thousands of tungsten rounds filled the void between them. The Terrans' strongest ships presented broadside, offering themselves as targets as they fired their broadside weapons. The Turians kept a distance and fired back; their rounds missed, but still were pressuring the Terrans. Behind them, the Marine transport ship arrived, protected in a sphere of escort ships as they pulled away from the battle and towards the planet. In typical Terran fashion, they emerged in full might, ready to repeat history as they had in rescuing Elysium.

But the Turians were set on writing their own version of history.

"Transport! We are picking up a Terran transport. Intelligence reads it as the… _Zona Rosa_!"

"Our line is too wide. Their escorts are attempting to push through to Shanxi!"

Parrus spoke, "The Twenty-Ninth Fleet should have arrived. Get Admiral Lavatia across the relay and intercept the Terran Relief Force."

"Yes, sir!" said the comm officer quickly as he got on the long-range communications, sending a message through the relay. He picked up a response, one garbled up by a mix of static as it came through. Quick filtering of the message enhanced it and its content got through, alerting the Nation to the situation back home.

"Admiral Parrus, we've received a reply from Lavatia."

"Well?"

He replied, unsure, "Directing reply to your station."

" _Admiral Parrus! Alert Primarch Desolas immediately. Fedorian has successfully rallied a fleet earlier than expected. He is attempting to intercept us at Rubico System. We, nor the rest of the Army, will be arriving to reinforce the attack. We will hold until further notice! Lavatia, out!"_

Parrus slammed his talon on the railing of his station. It seemed their delicate, although rushed, planning for the attack was unraveling. He turned to Toma. He was calm but focused on the screen, which was displaying information of a relay leading deeper into Federation space and a list of ships he was personally managing. He was waiting for their next target.

"Admiral Toma."

He sighed and acknowledged him, "Yes, Parrus? You seem worried."

"Our attack line is growing too loose, we have an enemy fleet rushing to retake Shanxi, and Fedorian is attempting to stop us. He just tied up the rest of our attack force."

"Fedorian… I expected as much. Rallying a fleet without proper communications is no easy feat. Although as his teacher, I would have expected him to be quicker. Well, Partinax has an entire legion of troops. He can make due."

Parrus spoke out, shocked by his casual demeanor, "Admiral! Our attack is about to unravel! If they take orbital control again and land their Marines, he will be overwhelmed. And we still have not gained control of the Second Fleet!"

"And I was your professor in the academy as well!" Toma turned and confronted him, "Now act like an admiral and worry of the battle at hand! As the leader of this assault, Desolas should and will be ready to react if plans change considerably."

Parrus cringed, but tried to keep his composure in front of the CIC, "Can Corival Squadron be freed to intercept…?" He checked his screens and what information they had mined from the Second Fleet, "Admiral Paris' force?"

Toma turned to him, interested, "Paris? He… I heard from their circles he was with Velenzual?"

"Admiral, this is not the time for gossip—"

A commander ran up to Parrus, "Sir, the fold has closed, and the Terrans are pushing once more. They may be attempting to break our line and form isolated battles."

Parrus yelled at him, "Tell the Fleet to pressed forward! Commander, status on the hacking?"

Another officer nearby turned her seat around, "Our current range is straining hyperspace bandwidth. The hack will be slower to infiltrate."

"Just keep masking the process signature." He turned back, "Toma?!"

Toma continued, "Let them land. Partinax will hold until the Fleet is free. We must maintain Corival's cover."

Unwilling to argue, Parrus nodded and turned back to his station, "Spirits damn it. Send a flotilla to intercept them. They may land, but we won't make the trip down pleasant."

"Yes, sir."

"Sir, we have now entered full combat with the Terrans. All flotillas are reporting casualties."

"If Roland wants to reenact the Skyllian Blitz, let him," commented Toma.

Toma nodded, "Agreed. They'll make better substitutes for the Batarians."

* * *

 **Part 5:**

 **Admiral Paris  
FSS **_**Zona Rosa**_ **  
One Hour and Ten Minutes Past Zero Hour  
September 4, 2168 08:10:00 UTC**

"We've broken through their blockade!"

"The _Theodore Roosevelt_ has diverted its air wings to support the landing!"

Admiral Paris set foot upon the bridge of the troop carrier, flanked by his officers. He quickly walked up to the table and assumed command, bringing up the holographic display of the fleet. In front of them was the viewport, showing Shanxi as the ships entered a low orbit of the world. Around them, a small flotilla of several dozen ships and several air wings had formed up to protect it and the Marines on board.

"Status report!" Paris ordered.

"We are about to enter synchronized orbit over the colony continent," reported Admiral Rahsan, one of the command AIs and the one in charge of landing coordination, "No word from ground command."

Another officer turned to him, "Sir, the Hierarchy has sent a flotilla to intercept us. ETA five minutes."

Paris took another look at the ground map, "Reposition along this continental median. They'll have to fight us from the horizons or risk bombarding their own forces."

"Yes, sir."

"Starbase 125 appears to still be operational, Admiral."

"Status?" Paris asked.

"Scanners are picking up no life signs onboard. They are still transmitting on QEC to Arcturus," replied a sensor officer.

"Ready Marines for landing. We'll take back the station later and find out how they've been spoofing its transmission." He pointed to Rahsan, "Have the _Achilles_ ready for atmospheric entry and deployment. And boost short-range radio. Get me someone on the ground before we drop…"

* * *

 **Shanxi**

" _This is Gatherer-2-Actual! There is still a large Turian force pushing closer to the memorial park. Evacuations are not complete! Requesting reinforcements, over!"_

" _This is Frost. Airfield-8 has been overrun! All active air assists are to relocate to the spaceport for resupply!"_

" _This is Apollo Base. Militia forces around the port have been routed. The Spaceport and its runways are not secure! Do not approach until further notice."_

" _Frost here. All remaining air assets scramble and support ground forces as needed. I am receiving word of Naval reinfor-"_

"…"

"Get me Frost, now!"

Williams sat in the forward seat of his vehicle as his convoy drove through downtown Pingyao. He was interfacing his watch with the Humvee's radio, trying to form up a mobile command. Ahead of them, Warlock-1 was at point, fighting along the other tanks in its group, who were traveling down the streets parallel to them. As they passed through, scattered soldiers of the National Guard were holding their position, aiding in the evacuation of civilians heading the other way.

"Frost!?"

A static transmission came through, " _Zeus, this is Apollo Base. Frost is dead, his convoy was attacked while en route to the spaceport._ "

Williams slammed the dashboard, "Christ, damn it! What's the status of the port?"

" _Sir, the spaceport is now under siege. If it falls, the Turians may attempt to land more forces to take the colony._ "

"Damn it…" He looked past the windshield, checking where they were in relation to the park, "Has a Colonel Harp…"

"Ambush!"

A Turian squad emerged from a parking garage to their right as the leading tank rolled by and opened fire at the convoy. The tank stopped as the rest of the vehicles swerved into nearby alleys. A Turian threw an omni-grenade from the second floor, taking out the Humvee in front of Williams'. With their Humvee stuck right in front of the building, Zaeed manned the machine gun behind Williams and opened fire at them as the driver, Holst, dragged Williams to cover on the other side.

As Warlock turned its turret around, those caught in the ambush scrambled for cover and returned fire at the naturally fortified Turian position. Williams pulled out his revolver and tried to lean over to get a shot. This time, in these tight quarters, he was pinned behind cover and unable to fight back. Zaeed quickly got off the machine gun.

"Concussion shots?" asked Williams.

"Negative! That building is thick concrete, and we're too close for a guided shot."

Over their open comms, the commander inside the tank radioed in as Warlock opened fire with its coaxial gun.

" _Laying down suppressive fire!_ "

They all ducked behind the other side of the vehicle as the gun chipped thousands of tiny pieces of concrete from the building. But with only one gun on them, the Turian soldiers shifted between windows and fired back. They still lacked effective anti-tank weaponry, but kept those caught in the streets pinned down. As rock, dust, and Turian rounds rained on them, Williams slammed his wrist and radioed in.

"Warlock, just open fire. Slug in!"

There was a delay in response as more grey dust conceded them.

" _Sir, you're only meters away! That entire building could fall on you!_ "

"Danger close! Open fire!" Williams turned to Zaeed, giving him a small grin as he pointed at his facial scar with his revolver, "I sure as hell didn't get this scar in the Revival caring for danger close."

Zaeed slouched down more, keeping behind cover of the Humvee, "I would prefer keeping both my eyes, sir."

Williams sighed, "Wouldn't we all-"

The tank opened fire, cutting him off as one magnetic tungsten slug came out. In an instant, it tore through the concrete and rebar support of the second floor. The combination of air concussion, splintering concrete, and metal filled the floor, killing the squad inside instantly. The third floor above buckled and collapsed through the second, and for a moment it held. Their ears recovered from the concussion, and Williams and the others stood up and turned around to check on Warlock's work.

Another crack signaled that it clearly wasn't done falling. They quickly ran back from the Humvee as the first floor collapsed and the third slid onto the street, concrete slabs and parked cars crushing everything between them and the tank. After the dust settled, the fallen building now blocked the main avenue.

"Blocked… Sergeant!"

"Sir!" Zaeed quickly responded as he took account for everyone else with them.

"How far are we from the park?"

"Just one click from here."

"Good, then let's…"

A static transmission came through on Williams' radio. It quickly cleared up and began broadcasting.

" _This is Admiral Paris of the Terran Second Fleet, Shanxi Relief Force. General Forsyth, please respond. Shanxi Command, please respond, over._ "

"Paris?" he whispered to himself unconsciously, "Of all the Marines they could send…" Williams thought about it for a moment, but quickly turned to his watch to respond, "This is Williams, over."

* * *

 **FSS** _ **Zona Rosa**_

"Thank God you're alive, General Williams," Paris stood over his table, looking at the map. His officers were busy staring at the holographic display of their ship formation. Outside, the Turians had quickly assumed formation in front of the Terrans from Shanxi's 'Dawn' terminator line. The Terrans were formed up in a defensive position around the troop transport, which was ready to deploy forces to the colony as it rotated closer to the 'Dusk' terminator line. "I have a Marine force ready to aid in retaking the continent. Have your command send optimal deployment zones."

Williams responded, looking around the destroyed building, "Negative, Paris. Fort Bao is lost and my staff is KIA. All forces are currently scattered and the capital is under siege."

"What!?" Paris turned to his staff, "Update this map! I want to know why we are not simply reinforcing, but outright taking back Shanxi!"

His officers scrambled for a moment to bring up tactical data of the surface. His ship shook a bit, prompting him to turn out to the viewport, where the Turians had begun their attack to drive them from orbit. A few slugs had gotten past the blockade, but the helmsman was quickly moving the ship to a lower orbit to avoid incoming fire, and make it harder for them to fire without risking hitting the planet.

"Our intelligence must be off. The Turian invasion force has advanced quicker than expected, Williams."

A tactical officer reported in, "The flotilla is holding the Turians at bay. We can deploy from this position, but we won't have additional aerial support for ground forces. All air wings and ships are tied down protecting us."

Williams overheard through the comms and replied, "That's what the Air Force is for!" He opened up a map on his watch, "Paris, I'm sending you a map of the colony. We still have the spaceport, and the Turians are stretched thin. Drop forces at these points and we'll be able to launch a counter offensive!"

An alert appeared on Paris' console. He quickly rushed to open it, indicating that a small file had been delivered on the same frequency Williams was on. Loading it, he received an updated map of Terran and Turian positions on the ground, which then appeared on the table for all of them to see.

"This…" He pointed at the table. This entire war had taken him by surprise. But at the same time, he knew he should have known better. Whatever caused it, whatever Williams' role, he was set to put an end to it before it could truly begin. "This will have to work. Admiral Rahsan!"

The AI turned to him, "Admiral?"

He began to back away from the table. "Coordinate with Williams and prepare the entire division for landing."

"Wait," They all noticed him leaving the table, "Admiral Paris, where are you going?"

"I… must attend to a mission for the Marines. But get First Battalion down there, now!"

"Wait, Admiral!"

He quickly ran off into an elevator and rushed away towards the launch bay. The other Admirals and marine officers looked on, stumped for a moment. But they quickly returned to mission. At any moment, the Turians could break through and attack. Letting thousands of Marines die over a planet was unacceptable. They needed to be off on their mission as soon as possible.

Rashan turned to the others, "Well? Let's get going! Prepare to deploy battalions one through twenty." He opened comms to the control center, "Control, I'm linking my processors to deployment. Let's get our divers going!"

* * *

 **Shanxi**

"Take the side street and merge with the other convoy! We need to be at the park, now!"

Zaeed was quickly coordinating the rest of the convoy behind them to merge with the one on the neighboring street. Williams finished up his message as the tank on the other side continued moving on.

"Warlock 1 to Warlock 3. We are pushing forward on Fourth Street. We will meet up at the Grand Plaza Hotel before pushing to Main Street, over."

" _See you at the Plaza._ "

Warlock-1 continued down the street as the convoy began moving through a nearby street to the next avenue to meet up with Warlock-3. But as the last Humvee stopped to pick him up, Zaeed tuned back to Williams. He immediately stepped back as their old vehicle was driven backwards in a hurry before turning back around, facing in the opposite direction of the park.

Zaeed rushed up to Williams, who had taken the Humvee for himself, as he worked with the gearing.

"General, what the hell are you doing!?"

"Simple," he said, shifting gear and leaning over the passenger seat, adjusting his wrist, "We need to rally!"

Zaeed stared at him, Williams' sudden uplifting demeanor startled him.

"Reinforcements are coming! But the linchpin to this entire battle is here, in the city, and at the spaceport. So I'll take the port. You take back my city, understood?"

"Wait, General-"

Williams drove out, eager to quickly leave the city as soon as possible. Zaeed watched as he swerved past debris before taking a left out of sight.

"What about an… escort? Shit, it's fucking North Africa again…" He looked down at the ground, noticing a device in front of him. It was still on, evident by a flashing red light.

"He left his watch?"

* * *

 **FSS** _ **Zona Rosa**_

In the first main shuttle bay, around a hundred of the first group of Marines were boarding their shuttles, ready to head down to the planet. They were the Tenth Marine 'Hell Drivers' Division. They saw extensive service during the Revival, and became the prime example of the Marines. Dropping straight from orbit in early, non-inertia dampened drop pods and engaging the enemy from truly every angle. Up until the last decade, traditional orbital drops were the main deployment method for the famed 'Hell Drivers'. Only the Blue Berets and the N7 Special Forces used them, and they phased it out earlier. But safety efforts and modern tactic redesigns saw their use come to an end as well. Though deploying in a shuttle in the midst of battle was far from safe. Diving straight into battle, most N7s had come from the Tenth Marines. Currently the first N7 officer led them.

"Lieutenant, is your squad ready?"

"Yes, Captain!" said the young officer. He was clean-shaven, with a straight posture and his black hair shaped by a tight buzz cut. He had his rifle shouldered behind him, holding his helmet under one arm, and gripping a handle on his waist with the hand. It was part of a personal weapon he brought with him.

"Then get in with your squad." She pointed at the emblem stamped on his shoulder, "It's time to earn those fallen wings."

As the hanger doors opened, their fighter escort flying around the outside of the ship, Admiral Paris arrived. He quickly waved to the control tower, delaying launch as he rushed to the shuttle where the officer was. The shuttle doors opened and the officer stepped out, surprised by the Admiral's presence.

"Admiral, sir!"

"Shut up," he said. "Leng!" The soldier with the sword stepped out moments later. Paris immediately took him aside and handed him a small data chip. "Williams is in the city. You are to secure the General, understood?"

He nodded and took the chip, understanding quickly what his mission truly was.

"Yes, sir!"

"And remember," Paris grabbed his arm and pulled Leng close and whispered, "We need him alive and in our custody. Who knows how much of this is his doing."

He gripped his sword handle and nodded, "Yes, sir!"

* * *

 **Part 6:**

 **General Partinax  
Fort Bao  
One Hour and Twenty Minutes Past Zero Hour  
September 4, 2168 08:20:00 UTC**

"Hmm…"

From the ruins of Fort Bao overlooking a ridge into the valley below, stood Turian General Partinax. Shuttles were coming in and out, delivering troops and materials to the front for the invasion force in the city fifty kilometers away. At the same time, they were reinforcing their main beachhead on Shanxi. He looked up at the sky and saw the battle between the Turian Naval Aviators and the Terran Army Air Force. Close to victory, he knew he needed to hold out for the _Titans_ above to crush the Terran forces. Cut off, he had to play his pieces very carefully.

He lowered his binoculars and spoke to himself, "What a small world… If only I were where Williams was."

The Major rushed over.

"Sir! The last shuttles have unloaded the tanks. Regrettably, with our transport with Admiral Parrus, we only have one Armor Company."

Partinax took a look around. The wide-open area at the end of the ridge gave him a perfect view of the fields below.

"Line them up here, along this ridge," he said, pointing along the ground, "Have gunners zone in the immediate farmland around the fort. Then activate stealth systems to avoid Terran recon from discovering them."

The Major seemed confused by the tactic, "Yes, sir. Uh… May I ask why, sir?"

Partinax gestured for him to come to the edge, handing him his binoculars. He then pointed over to the right, towards the hills on the other side of the valley. The Major nodded and turned to look at the seemingly empty farmland.

"Sir, our aerial recon has no movement… wait."

"Do you see that, Major?"

"Yes!"

Through the binoculars, he saw a gathering dust storm. But when he changed to looking for heat signatures, the dust revealed more. An entire Terran armor division was coming down from the smaller bases in the area. The VI on his combat visor did a quick calculation from the signature, but it was clear without it. Partinax signaled another officer to get their tanks into position along the ridge.

The major received a message from the field, forwarded to him before he showed Partinax, "Sir, reports from the front. The Terrans are landing Marine support and our own line is being stretched. If they regroup with that armor division, they'll cut off our forces in the city and may push us back to the fort."

Partinax nodded to him, "If they wish to push back, then let them."

"Sir?"

"Major," he said, taking his binoculars back to continue watching the valley, "We are outnumbered and outgunned. Our lines are stretched, and we control neither the air nor orbit. If we push with what we have left, the Terrans will make us bleed to advance, and they will fight to break us.'

"If our line collapses, they can push in force back here. If we lose here…"

"Exactly. But understand the battle, and its strategic value. If we came in force, they wouldn't face us head on. They would skirmish and bleed us dry. They don't fight for honor, they fight for victory. But our invasion is an insult, and they see nothing other than that and the chance to crush us in full force. We both need Shanxi. A victory here would secure our cause. One the Terran can't afford to let happen. We had force them out and into the open. I would honor them in letting them fight head on."

"Sir. If they counter attack now, we could be crushed! Even fortifying the fort won't help."

"Major. You forget the advantage we have," He pointed upwards to the sky, his indication of something even higher, "This battle will not be won by tactics on the field. It will be won by whoever can get the pieces aligned just so. When they attack, we will make them learn that they fought for too much." He looked back at the battlefield before him and surveyed the front. His left was nearing the spaceport, his middle was fighting for the city, and his right had already halted in the face of the Terrans massing to defend the planet. "I see everything Williams has…"

"Sir?"

Partinax walked away from the ridge. "Ready the tanks. And alert me when we have contact with the Fleet again." He climbed over the rubble of the wall and back into the fort, as the first of the Turian Armis hovertanks appeared on the line. It was an impressive armored platform with a mass accelerator barrel that spanned the length of the armor chassis and hovered half a meter above the ground by default. About twenty slowly moved into position, then landed on the ground. They locked in for support and activated a rudimentary stealth system.

"This is but a small sample of what Williams faces."

The Major turned back to him, "Sir? And the rest of our forces at the front?"

"Keep pressing the Terrans. If they encounter a counter-attack, fall back."

"Retreat?"

"Spirits, no. That's what the Terrans would call it. Instruct them to advance… in another direction."

* * *

Posted on January 29, 2018 - Beta-read by MoonSword1994


	33. 32: My Right is Retreating - Part 2

**Chapter Thirty-Two:** ** **Part 2:** My Right is Retreating…**

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/

This is Part Two of the Battle of Shanxi.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

* * *

Chorus _  
Farewell to Terra Nova, the star-bound coast,  
May your deserts bright and gleamy_ _be.  
For when I am far away on the gassy nebulas tossed,  
Will you ever heave a sigh or a wish for me?  
_  
The sun was setting in the East,  
The birds were singing on every tree.  
All nature seemed inclined to rest  
But still there was no rest for me.  
 _Chorus_

I grieve to leave my native world,  
I grieve to leave my comrades all,  
And my aging parents whom I've always loved so dear,  
And the bonnie, bonnie lass that I do adore.  
 _Chorus_

I have three brothers and they are at rest,  
Laid down on the Home World, forever more.  
But a poor simple sailor just like me,  
Must be tossed and turned in the deep dark sky.  
 _Chorus_

The drums they do beat and the wars to alarm,  
The admiral calls, I must obey.  
So farewell, farewell to Terra Nova's charms,  
For it's early in the morning and I'm far, far away.  
 _Chorus_

 _ **Farewell to Terra Nova,**_ **a popular colonial folksong of the sailors from Terra Nova,  
believed to be created by the original Canadian colonist.  
Was made the official tune of the Second Fleet during the Great Revival.**

* * *

 **Part 1:**

 **Beijing, China  
Day 107 of the Great Revival  
August 6, 2147**

"My God, Averil. How I'm glad to actually see you!"

The major reached his hand out and pulled General Williams into the shuttle. With a quick yank, he pulled him in and hurled Williams into a seat. He turned back to Makajima.

"Thank you, Captain for securing the general."

"Of course, sir!" She saluted him and turned back to her squad, "India Squad, move out!"

She rejoined her squad and the battle for the outskirts of Beijing. The shuttle's engine began to roar, and it took off over the roofline. Its doors closed and Averil turned to Williams. He was resting back in his seat, relaxing from the battle with a sigh of relief.

"That was a heck of a battle." He smiled to Averil as he placed his hands behind his head and crossed his legs, "Good thing you dropped those hell divers. I'll never question orbital dropping again…"

"Williams." Averil walked up to him, and looked down on him with a serious look, "Why the hell were you there?"

Williams immediately stood up, bewildered by the statement. "That is out of line, Major!"

Sensing that his position had gone to his head, Averil proceeded to remind him of their mutual position. He reached over to his chest and removed the small Marine emblem pin above his name, and tossed it aside onto the shuttle seat. Williams understood what that meant and did the same, removing his Army pin.

"Edward. You're supposed to be in a hospital. You're supposed to be recovering from almost dying over Mars, not getting shot on Earth! If Bletchley knew you were here, he would strip your rank, and kick you out of the Section."

Williams smiled and rolled his eyes, "Renaud. Don't you see what's happening? Down there, and around Earth?" He reached for the hatch and pulled the latch. The air quickly slid the hatch wide open. Immediately, they were met with the sight of a wing of Air Force Guardian Angels, the closest just a dozen meters away from the shuttle and enough to rock it with its turbulence. As they flew away from it, the orange sky was full of smoke, and there were flashes of battles among the ruins of the city below.

"This? This is a battlefield, Williams! The city has been besieged for nearly two months. Hundreds of thousands dead, and to think this was the home of the '44 Olympics-"

" _This is Gabriel. Enemy armor column spotted. All Angels, weapons free. Open fire on designated target!"_

He stopped when they saw the Angels pivot to the side and opened fire. A bright flash came from the battles of their signature Proton Collider antimatter cannon. Dozens of shells rained down on the city below, each with a few hundred antiprotons. Entire stretches of major streets and avenues were blown away with the sheer force of a miniature atomic blast; the shell's mass effect energy regulators channeled the raw power of matter annihilation into an explosion that leveled city blocks with ease. The bright flashes quickly faded off and then began sweeping up with their multiple AI controlled broadside machine guns, raining down thousands of precision rounds and opening the way for Terran Marines and Militia forces below.

"This is war!" said Williams, pointing out across the horizon, "A rebellion unfolding, Renaud, and I intend to be there. To lead the troops and crush these bastards-"

"Stop, Ed…" It took only a quick moment for him to realize what was going on, "My god, Ed. You sound like some glory seeker. This, this…" Averil hammered down on the shuttle's hatch control and closed it. He then shoved Williams into his seat. "This is not some game, or war excises. This _is_ war! Congress has evacuated, and the government is in shambles. Our military is stretched thin trying to suppress the uprising across the planet. If we lose here, if this rebellion gets off world, we could see a full on civil war."

He stood back up, "Which is why I need to be here, stopping this!"

Averil pushed him back into his seat, "You should be helping stopping this, Edward. But not as some frontline officer who's thirst for glory outweighs his brain."

"I am a general!"

"You are an intelligence officer, brought into the fold by Bletchley. You came from a civilian agency. You barely have any military training. You do not know how to fight or lead men! That rank of yours is a formality!"

Williams rushed from his seat and shoved Averil aside, "How dare you? I need to be out there! Not even Section 14 knows what's causing this. I am trying to save the Federation. We need a united Humanity. I can't do that from behind a desk, just waiting to be bombed."

"And risking getting a bullet to the head is not better, that… my god. This is about Mars! You need to be in hospital. You are neither physically or mentally fit to be here."

"That's not true!"

Williams pulled out his sidearm, prompting the trained Marine into action. In one quick step, he side-stepped Williams as he raised his gun at him. Before Williams could react, Averil raised his arm around and chopped at Williams' arm, then elbowed him in the face. Williams dropped his pistol and Averil caught it, pivoting into a turn as he gripped the barrel and pistol-whipped the general. Williams fell back against his seat and slowly slouched in place.

Averil unloaded Williams' pistol and dropped it, before sighing, "God damn it Ed."

The pilot opened the closed compartment between them, "We're approaching Firebase Lin!"

The shuttle quickly began its descent towards the planet. Averil placed Williams' pistol back in his holster and laid him down along the row of seats. He grabbed his Army pin and hooked it back on his uniform. Averil thought about how he was going to explain the mess in front of him. The man was less than well balanced, but it wasn't going to be something General Bletchley would want to handle. The hatch opened as they began their landing.

In the background of the base were the center of Beijing and the entrance to the famous Forbidden Palace. Tiananmen Square in front of it had been hastily converted into an artillery base and command post for operations; its garden features and tourist structures demolished to make room for conventional 155mm artillery cannons. A monument to the famous 'Tank Man' protester, standing in front a replica of an old Type 59 tank, was now surrounded by a dozen actual Rhino tanks. Tiananmen itself was in disrepair from fighting, its famed portrait of Jian Xiang Lin, who led the Taiwanese return to China during the Sino-SEATO war in the 2040s, was crookedly hanging above the entrance.

Averil opened the internal comms to the pilot.

"Request a military escort and a medical team with a stretcher."

The shuttle landed, a medical team was running out with a stretcher and a few soldiers in tow. As the medical team rushed Williams off the shuttle and to a medical tent, another officer ran up to greet Averil.

"Major Averil, sir… what happened to Brigadier Williams?" the officer asked instead.

He quickly replied with a story to save Williams' face, "He was injured in combat near the western end of town. Was there something you needed?"

The officer, with a dark blue beret on his head, saluted him and replied, "Major. I am Lieutenant Paris, 9th Battalion. I am here to on behalf of General Bletchley." He walked up closer to the major, whispering to him, a phrase, with difficulty, " _Though wise men at their end know, uh, know dark is right. Because their words had forked… had forked…_ "

Averil rolled his eyes and completed the Section 14 identification phrase for Paris, " _Because their words had forked no lightning. They do not go gentle into that good night_. Yes, Lieutenant. What does Bletchley need?"

"Here, sir."

Averil took the tablet form him. After decrypting it with his biometrics, he read the content, prompting him to drop his hand, and sigh in utter annoyance.

" _Bordel de merde_!"

"Sir?"

Averil noticed his beret, "You a B7? How many managed to make it here from Fort Anderson?"

"The entire force has been called to the home world. The 9th battalion and I are hoping Colonel Bishop would return to service. We're hold up in Moscow at the moment."

"Well, keep on hoping." He handed the unencrypted tablet to him to see, "President Averil just called the Mirage Contingency into effect."

"The Mirage Contingency? What does that mean?"

"Sol is now under blockade. We're on our own…"

* * *

 **Part 2:**

 **Rizen Lee Planetary Spaceport  
** **One Hour And Forty Five Minutes Past Zero Hour  
** **September 4, 2168 08:45:00 UTC**

"We're still pinned down!"

"Keep the shields on that thing up, or we're all dead!"

A spaceport served as a main junction point on which anyone on a world could leave and go to space. For the Terrans, it served as the prime link to the stars, and as a base for controlling the skies underneath them. As per colonial design, they served as the main civilian airfield, and as the coordinating military base for all aircraft, second only to the main command base.

"The batteries are down to thirty percent. She ain't meant to take such a concentrated beating."

"They held themselves during the Revival. I doubt the Sky Rebel could have shot one down herself. We just need to hold out for reinforcements!"

"What reinforcements? The militia fled!"

"Wait! I see a vehicle near the road. One of ours!"

On the main tarmac, a crew of engineers and bombers were taking shelter behind a ruined luggage trolley. Next to them stood an old Terran Army Guardian Angel Gunship, a now outdated Air Force close air support craft. It stood just outside its hangar, shields active. Just below it was its old crew, lying dead after attempting to bring it back online. Across the runway, around two hundred meters away, was a platoon of Turian Marine scouts entering the premises of the airfield. Dug in, they concentrated their fire on what remained of the defenders, hiding behind the shields of the old aircraft.

The commander of the bomber crew looked over his shoulder, "God, please tell me it's some men from Fort Bao."

A crewman with a visor tried to zoom in on the truck as it broke through the gates of the spaceport.

"It's just a single humvee… just one man… an officer?"

Williams drove down the runway, swerving between destroyed aircraft and blast craters. He ducked below the steering wheel, peering over as he made a mad beeline dash for the Apollo Base, the spaceport's traffic tower. In no time, the Turians quickly registered his presence and they shifted their fire to him. Williams slowly drifted to the other side of the runway, hoping to drive by wreckage to cover his drive.

"Battery at ten percent!"

"My God! Is that General Williams?"

The bomber commander turned and looked up at the gunship, its wings extending over him. He stared at the low trust ramjet engine, then followed the wing back to the fuselage.

"Lieutenant!"

His bombardier took some potshots at the Turians, before leaning back into cover and turning to him.

"Sir?"

"Follow me. We need to restart the gunship's engine."

She broke from cover of a pile of luggage and rushed to him, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, restart the engines, power the shields," He pointed over to the main gun at the nose of the gunship, an old 55mm collider cannon, "And maybe get that cannon online."

"Well, we don't have another choice. Rico, Nester, cover us-"

"Ma'am, that is General Williams!"

The Turians formed a line and took aim at Williams, raising their Phlanax rifles in an arc at him. They quickly fired off a barrage of concussive rounds before leveling off their sight and opened fire at the Terran General. Williams' head turned quickly at the sound and he banked the wheel in a hard turn. He kept going back and forth, zigzagging as concussive shots came flying at him, bombarding the runway and splashing chunks of concrete into the air.

One round hit the engine block, blowing off the hood. The engine began to stutter, but Williams floored the pedal to keep his speed.

"Get in, get in!" yelled the Commander.

The bomber crew rushed to board the gunship. Her shields began to fail, and the Turians' fire started to break through the weakened energy barrier. Over the air, Turian fighters began swarming the airfield like vultures, prepared to take and open the gates for a full and unimpeded invasion.

The Commander got to the cockpit and flipped the switches to begin fusion ignition. Outside, the ramjets engaged in a thunderous roar, deafening the aircrew. The gunship's reactor began pumping in helium-3 and deuterium. The heat was channeled to the ramjets, which began to achieve thrust, and the energy surged back into the shield array.

The Commander pulled the dead pilot out of his seat and grabbed his headset. He sat down in his seat, and then looked up past the windshield. The aluminum glass began to slowly self-seal, but the Turians were breaking from cover and advancing across the runway. A few fighters attempted a starting run on them, but the shields held off the rounds. He began a quick flight checklist as he yelled over the internal comms,

"Bombardier, man that collider! Switch the ammo to dispersal. Three rounds over their heads should fry them!"

The crew rushed to aim the lateral cannon. As it turned, Williams drove close to them and the luggage trolley. He searched around the backseat and found a tire jack, then proceeded to jam it into the wheel. As he struggled, three fighters looked to him and circled around for another run. Heading towards the humming engines, Williams rushed to lock the wheel.

With success, he jumped out as the Turians riddled the runway with mass accelerator rounds. He phased through the gunship's shields just as the humvee was hit and exploded. He slammed into the ground, but quickly scurried to cover. An engineer turned to him as he stood back up, only to collapse in pain as he clutched his shoulder.

"General Williams!"

"Not now!" He pointed at the gunship, "Who is in command?"

"Commander Triton, sir. He's attempting to use this gunship."

Williams raised his wrist to patch in, but dropped it from the pain, and realized afterwards he didn't have his watch. He peered through a pile of luggage, seeing the Turians make one last push.

"Signal him to fire, now!"

The engineer nodded and attempted to wave at the cockpit. The commander looked down, noticing him and Williams.

"Sir, round in!" alerted the bombardier officer.

"Collider-gamma, burst fire!"

The cannon fired off a burst of three antimatter rounds from its auto-loader chamber. Each was modified from a kinetic explosive payload to a pure energy payload. In a fraction of a second, the first one flew just above the entrenched Turians and detonated. Its mass effect refiners, which converted the pure energy to a destructive force, didn't activate as intended, causing the raw collision of antimatter to release over a couple hundred Sieverts of gamma radiation in all direction. The next two quickly flew over and detonated over those advancing across the runway. The gamma burst had a short range before it deteriorated to harmless background radiation, but over the Turians, even their metal skin and power armor couldn't stop the radiation. The burst of radiation ripped through the nucleus in each of their cells, killing millions instantly. In only seconds after the bright flash of light, the Turian attackers lay dead from a quick, though painful, death.

The bombardier checked the infrared scans of the other side of the runway, numerous heat blobs slowly extinguished.

"Confirmed. Targets down."

"Good job, everyone."

Williams struggled back up, and walked under the gunship, and back onto the runway. An engineer followed him as he turned to the control tower above. Over the radio on the engineer's watch, reinforcements announced their arrival.

" _This is Warsaw-1, making a run above the spaceport. Open_ _the way for the_ _Marines_."

They watched as Terran fighters arrived, prompting the Turians to fall back. As the airways returned to the Terrans, a few shuttles began to descend from the sky.

"About time. The Marines arrived!" said the Engineer.

"Well, would you look at that . . ." He turned to the engineer, "Your watch."

"What? Oh, of course. . ."

He took it off and gave it to Williams, who quickly patched it to the control tower.

"This Zeus, re-identify at 87-TG-62. Apollo Base, come in, over."

The Marines began to depart and rush to secure the perimeter. A few stopped at the puzzling sight of dozens of dead Turian Marines, all fully helmeted with what appeared to be not a single injury on them. But they were quickly prompted to continue to secure the airfield.

" _This is Apollo. Good to hear you, Zeus. Our markers had you still in Pingyao._ "

"I've relocated. Continue coordinating Marine development and establish command here. I will be up shortly, over."

" _Roger. The_ Zona Rosa _is waiting for you on the comm line. Out._ "

Williams handed the watch back, then turned to the gunship.

"What's the status of this gunship?"

The engineer turned back to it and opened comms, "Commander, the General wishes to know the status of the gunship."

Form the cockpit, the Commander stood up and peered over the window, seeing the two standing beside it. He grabbed the radio microphone and responded.

" _Repair circuits online. Engines and weapons online._ "

Williams chuckled, rolling his eyes the same time, "Wow, a fully armed museum piece. Someone's getting sacked for that. We're preparing a counterattack. Can you get this fossil airborne?"

"Sir, the original crew accompanying this aircraft for the airshow was killed during the attack."

The Commander interjected, " _My bomber crew is well trained and can handle this aircraft. I even piloted one during the Revival. Give us the order, and we'll drive the birds back._ "

Williams looked up to the cockpit and nodded, "So be it. Register with Apollo and take off. Our fighters will open the way for you. Zeus, out." He turned to the engineer, "Prep your crew. By land and air, we're heading back to Bao."

* * *

 **Part 3:**

 **Pingyao City  
One Hour And Forty Five Minutes Past Zero Hour  
September 4, 2168 08:45:00 UTC**

"Able Squad, move forward. Stay behind the tank!"

With the gated fence of the memorial park on their right, and the buildings of stores and homes on the other, Sergeant Zaeed Massani and his Able Squad continued to advance up the street at the entrenched Turian position. The Turians had control of the avenue on the other side of the park, and the Terrans were quickly advancing across the park to meet them. The militia held their ground in the middle, awaiting Army relief for them and the civilians that took refuge in the park and the underground shelters.

"Fifth building to the right, sniper on the rooftop!" yelled out Tabco.

Massani rushed up behind the tank and interfaced with his watch, "Warlock, sniper on the top fifth building, right side past the intersection up ahead. Take them out!"

The commander inside replied, "Copy, Sergeant. Gunner, fifth building past intersection, right side on top. Switch to Molten round. Fire for effect!"

The Panther tank stopped and turned towards the park and the buildings on the other end. Able Squad stayed close to the tank, where its shields extended over them and shielded their advance. It took aim and fired a magnetic slug. For a split second it burned through the air, leaving a thin plasma trail, before it slammed into the floor just below. The entire upper part was blown away, the top part collapsing onto the story below.

Able Squad continued their assault; half going door to door to take the street back as the other half stayed behind the tank to secure their flank from the park. In front of them, a Turian APC drove into the intersection, its turret coaxial gun opening fire as it turned towards the Terrans.

"APC ahead. It has a mass accelerator gun!"

"Gunner, take it out! Our shields can't protect us and Able at once!"

The gunner quick swerved the turret at it. The Turians fired off first. Its small, fast round managed to break past the hybrid kinetic/energy shields; it deformed upon impact of the barrier, before being slowed down by the energy field. It then hit the frontal sloped armor; a section of reactive armor was set off, blowing away the round. The APC quickly fired more rounds, and the Terrans' weakened shields deflected less of the kinetic energy, exposing more of its main armor.

"Now, fire, fire!"

Just before the gunner pressed the switch, the APC was destroyed in a sudden explosion. The gunner quickly refrained from firing off an unnecessary round; he turned to his screens to see from the cams where it came from. Outside, Massani did the same to see where the killing blow came from.

"Who took that APC out?"

"Shuttles above; they're ours!"

Above them, the first Marines from orbit rushed down to reinforce the Army's advance. Several shuttles began circling around the park, and their hatches opened up to reveal several fixed machine guns. They circled around and fired down upon the Turians' position, moving fast as they made their way behind the front line.

In particular, one shuttle made a quick drop, landing just behind Massani and his squad. From it, Lieutenant Leng jumped off and ran quickly towards the tank. His squad went straight after him, more focused on reaching Massani than fighting the Turians ahead.

"I guess I owe the Marines for the APC," he reluctantly acknowledged to Leng as he latched onto cover behind the tank with him.

"I care not for having to save the Army from messing up its one job," he said, opening up his watch, "Just tell me where General Williams is."

Massani turned away from the corner of the tank and looked at him, "General Williams?"

Leng stared the grizzled sergeant down, "I am under orders to retrieve the General, straight from Admiral Paris. Orbital IFF read that he was here with your squad."

Massani simply chuckled. He opened a compartment in his armor and took out Williams' watch, then waved it in his face, "By that logic, he was next to my heart…"

* * *

In a building overlooking the intersection, a Turian squad rushed into a room with a clear view of the battle below. They cleared the center of the room to make space. Two took point at the window, while the other three began their work. Each carried a large, long, octangular prism shaped machine. One by one, they laid it down on the floor and began the in-field assembly of their machine.

"Strafing! Get away from the window!"

A shuttle began a strafe of the building. One of the soldiers picked up the half-assembled machine, and shoved it and two others to the wall to get out the way. The hail of rounds rained through the windows and tore through the walls, quickly gunning down three of the Turian soldiers in an instant, while shredding every piece of furniture in the room.

"Sergeant!" yelled a private as he clawed back up against the wall.

The lieutenant next to him got up as well, and grabbed his end of the machine.

"They're dead, Private. If you want to avenge them, then set this up and make the pyjaks pay!"

He kept exhaling, and then nodded in agreement. They set up the machine and carried it over to the window. The officer looked down at the street, seeing the Terran tank covering their advance, and a shuttle unloading a squad of Marines behind it. The young soldier finished calibrating the machine, and then signaled the officer.

"It's ready!" He opened the top and grabbed a large energy cell from his armor belt, then loaded it in. "We have four shots."

"It'll do," They picked it up and placed the barrel on the window ledge, "Take that shuttle out first. They won't see what's coming!"

* * *

"He isn't here!?" Leng grabbed the watch from Massani.

"He 'dropped' it and left for the spaceport."

"Coming here was utterly useless!"

"Well thanks for the help anyway. Good to know you care."

Leng crushed the watch in his hands and dropped the debris in front of Massani. He sealed his helmet, and then walked away, calling his squad to head back to the shuttle. But as he approached it, it exploded, followed by the ground rumbling with a mixture tremble. It knocked the Marines around it to the ground it cracked around them, but Leng held his position, before he turned back to the Turians.

"What the hell was that?" yelled Massani.

Leng rushed to cover near the park entrance. Through his visor, he detected a thin line of plasma above him. A quick turn of his head traced it to a window of the first building overlooking the intersection.

"The Turians have a portable cannon!" He turned to his squad, "Shinobi! Get off the street!" He dove from cover into the park itself, "All shuttles, strafe the buildings, now!"

"Able, take refuge!" Massani turned to his own men and singled the same, then rushed to open comms with the tank, "Warlock. First building, fire now!"

The tank quickly rushed to turn to fire. But the Turians in that room rushed to reload an energy cell and took aim. They fired, aiming straight for the front of Warlock. In instantaneous speed, it pierced through its shields with no effort, and then made contact on the hull. The tiny, ten-kilogram slug pierced right through, ignoring sheets of uranium and titanium and leaving a massive cavity that tore through metal and men, then out through the bottom.

Before Massani could register the impact, the ground beneath him trembled. The round had burrowed into the ground and carved a cavity right under him. The asphalt cracked, then fell inward to the cavity and sewer system breath; Massani quickly ran off on what solid ground was left. But then the ground under the metal wreck that was Warlock gave and the street swallowed it in. He kept running towards the sidewalk, but his last step crumbled and he fell without a chance to grab on to an edge.

Massani fell through the carved concrete foundation, then into the exposed sewer below. He fell several meters, bashing into pipes and exposed rebar. He snagged on one pipe, and hurried to grab on, before a falling rock bashed him in the head and dropped him in. After a turbulent fall, he slammed into the lower sewers.

He looked up. The sky above, falling rocks and dripping water around him. As he crawled on his back towards an opening into the main sewer proper, the hole grew larger and the tank made a dive right for him.

"Oh shit, shit, shit!"

"…"

" _We got the bastards!"_

" _Shinobi, forward. Secure the avenue!"_

" _Where's sarge?"_

* * *

 **Part 4:**

 **Shanxi Farmlands  
Two Hours Past Zero Hour  
September 4, 2168 09:00:00 UTC**

" _Apollo Command! This is Chariot-1! We have cut off the Turian forward force at Road 8. Preparing to converge into the city."_

" _This is Shinobi-2-Actual. Be advised, we have taken the city center. Reinforcement is not necessary."_

" _What? Shinobi, with all due respect, you cannot make that call-"_

" _This is Zeus. Chariot-1, Marine forces will take back the city. Get me my fort back!"_

" _Uh, yes sir! To all forces! Code Boomerang is in effect. Let's show the skullies how the Army fights!"_

Outside the city, the counterattack had begun. The Turian line shattered after their initially successful attack lost steam from over extending the troops. Marines were pouring in to take back the area, and the full might of the Third Army's finest were now bearing down. With only pockets of Turian resistance, the attack back to Fort Bao was spear headed by Armor Company Chariot.

Inside the lead tank, its newest gunner was sitting in the back of the compartment, the turret above him. His crew of three others, its commander, driver, and electronics officer, sat ahead of him in the tight area, several consoles surrounding them. He awaited the order to man the gun and engage.

"Activate the surrounding surveillance system," order the commander.

"Aye, sir," said the electronics officer.

The gunner put on his special facemask, connecting to the military hardware in his suit. The others wore goggles. Through them, the microscope cameras that littered the hull of the ship turned on. From their goggles, they could see a transparent image of the surrounding area in relation to their aim of sight. With a near three-sixty view, they prepared to engage the Turians.

"You said you were once a Marine, Major Rafele?" asked the driver as they traversed over hills, the suspension system negating the bumps. The entire tank company pushed right on through the hills towards the valley between them and Fort Bao, riding at nearly a hundred kilometers per hour.

"Yes, Lieutenant," he responded, "Worked with heavy equipment, while protecting engineers during mining expeditions in the Terminus. After we joined, they offered a position with your armor corps. I couldn't resist a chance to be in such a vehicle."

The tank commander turned his seat back, "Well, you saw the training. Unfortunately you must experience it in live combat, but you can be rest assured of the ability of the Panther. The Turians having nothing to match its speed and agility. We can run circles around the Turians' Armis without a sweat."

"And we have more electronics than a damn Navy frigate!" boasted the electronics officer. "All we're missing is an AI!"

"We don't even need one. Commander Weinman here drove those old Rhino tanks during the Battle of Musaid. Made Kursk look like a street sideshow."

"As I read. But the Turians are far from out-gunned. Its gun is a miniature cruiser cannon."

"And our Quarian major is right…" The commander checked his console, seeing red blips appear at their front from IFF readings, as well as the back of the driver's head, "Contact detected. Major, man the gun and take aim at target A6."

"Yes, Colonel!"

He climbed into the turret and readied the cannon, the safety turned off and the re-loader online. He turned to his right, seeing the outside point of view and the enemy position. Each tank in the column took an assigned target, and he focused on the one marked 'A6'.

"Dropping speed to forty."

"Four hundred meters," said Rafele.

"Anyone identify?" asked Colonel Weinman, "Infantry or armor?"

"Chariot-4 is closest… Confirmed, it's a Turian platoon. They're dug in!"

"Chariot-1 engaging!" yelled Weinman on the radio, "Switch to HE and open fire!"

Rafele switched from the round type to high explosive anti-infantry as the turret turned to take aim. The chamber initialized, and flash heated the slug to an unstable molten round.

"Chariot-1, Target A6, three hundred and seventy meters. HE round in… Fire!"

Chariot-1 fired, the molten slug coursed through the air. Properly heated in accordance to distance, the round traveled the adjusted distance before the round heated too much and exploded over the Turians' head. Two other tanks did the same, targeting the Turians before switching to their machine guns to sweep the area.

"Heat signature is spread out. Target confirmed down."

"Their attack is floundering right in front of us. Driver, speed up! We'll be at Fort Bao within the hour."

They sped up and continued taking point as they formed up a spear formation and advanced through the hills. Above them, the sky just above was still contested as the Turians and Terran fought for air supremacy. But above that, with orbit just as much being fought for, the upper atmosphere was free for anyone to use. In a short while, they emerged into the valley. In the distance was the hill where Fort Bao rested. The battle slowly turned to the Terrans, yet the goal was already in sight.

As they began their drive, air reconnaissance relayed Turian defense positions just ahead. They all turned their heads forward to see the forward camera direction. Ahead, numerous red dots and squares appeared, indicating infantry and armor.

"Target twenty kilometers away. In-range in two minutes."

"The Turians dug in rather quick," remarked their driver.

"That's because they're using our prebuilt defense line," answered the Commander, "We should have foreseen them opting to take the fort first instead of the spaceport."

Rafele added on, "But they're paying the price now. No orbital support, and they're outnumbered." He looked up, his IFF identifiers showed a green pentagon high above. It was different from the numerous green triangles of Terran fighters engaged in combat. "What is that?"

Colonel Weinman looked up and quickly recognized it, "An Angel!"

"Angel?"

"Guardian Angels, fixed wing gunships. I thought we stop using them years ago?"

Over the comms, Commander Triton called out to the ground force below.

" _This is Gabriel. Enemy forces have occupied Defense Line Charlie. Be advised. We are weapons free!"_

High above the battlefield, the lone gunship flew in formation with an escort of fighters. It began to slowly turn and bring its cannon to bear at the Turians. Its cannon then fired a burst of antiproton rounds. They rained down on the defensive line, each round hitting major defense points and bunkers as their cannon fired from one end of the line to the other. Each one unleashed a massive antimatter blast that turned the Turian position into a line of craters across the valley.

" _Target down. Realigning for attack at sector D-5."_

Rafele looked at the sight of destruction as the tank column pushed past the defense line.

"Ancestors! Even a cruiser can't do such precision damage!"

"We have the skies. Now we just need to take the ground and wait for the Navy to take orbit-" Past his visuals, a console began blipping in front of him. He quickly turned around, seeing a group of vehicles trailing them from down the hill they came from.

"Jackson, what the hell is that?"

He turned around as well, "No IFF. But it doesn't look like ours."

"Gunner, take aim. Driver, bank ri-"

Behind them, a column of Turian APCs opened fire at the Terrans. With high speed, a rotatable turret, and a decent mass accelerator cannon, the Turians were quick to deploy them as their ground answer to the agility and mobile doctrine of the Terran armor. Vastly heavier and more armored, Chariot-1 turned right to avoid the volley; its shields brushed off the attack as they prepared their own. The rest of them soon followed and moved in to attack.

The Turians stayed in a group formation. The Terrans scattered. Each one picked their own target as they zigzagged closer to make their first shots the killing blow. The Turians APCs opted to stay at high speed and out maneuver them, keeping distance all the while. They each focused on a single tank, hoping their fast loading cannons could overwhelm each individual Terran tank. From a distance of five hundred meters, the Turians took aim and fired.

A volley was unleashed on the closest tank. Chariot-3 zigzagged to dodge the first, and it got close to fire off a heavy magnetic round. Its heavy cannon fired and bore straight through an APC, including its barriers and hull. It was followed not with an explosion, but the entire APC being shoved off its wheels, before tumbling away. But the others quickly got a bead on Chariot-3 and their VIs led their guns to the Terrans' path.

Another volley of mass accelerator slugs were off, and made their mark. They're numerous lightning rounds overwhelmed the shield system, before they hit the reactive armor all across the side of the tank. The tank was instantly engulfed in a fierce explosion from the special armor, and it quickly slowed to a stop.

"Chariot-3, report!"

A moment of silence came, before a static filled signal came through from the burning tank. Its sealed compartment still protecting its crew.

" _This is Chariot-3. We've sustained heavy damage, systems fried. Our hull is exposed. Playing opossum, out."_

"Keep zigzagging with the others. Don't give them time to focus on another tank," the Colonel yelled out. He turned to an APC to his right that was locked in a turn with them, attempting circle around first to their back, "Driver, they're trying to outrun and circle around behind. Veer right and go full speed into their other column. That'll surprise them!"

"Yes, sir."

Chariot-1 quickly veered, pulling off a high sped turn; left track ran full and its right track locked to a stop. With a dozen APCs in front of him, Rafele took aim at the nearest one, switching the round type to armor piercing, pumping liquid nitrogen into the chamber to flash cool the round, which kept its shape integrity in flight.

"Chariot-1, AP out!"

He fired off a shot, and landed a hit that bashed through barrier and armor. It burst into flames, but kept going forward before it slowed down. They closed the distance, prompting the APCs to scatter from formation, losing their combined firepower as they split up. Chariot-1 followed left joined by two others to corner one half as the others went for the other half.

"Target P7!"

"Cariot-1, P7, AP out!"

Shattering their formation, the heavy-handed Terrans picked off the Turians. From there, it did not take long for the Terrans to make clean work of the Turian APC company. For now, the Terrans reigned supreme.

They regrouped and pointed back to Fort Bao, waiting for the status from the entire group. Colonel Weinman lifted his goggles to read the command screen in front of him.

"Well, Chariot-3 is out. In spite of that ambush, we have still outpaced our infantry."

The electronics officer reported in, "All systems green."

Rafele climbed back down form the turret, "Where to now, Commander?"

He checked his screen, bringing up up-to-date reconnaissance of the land ahead of them. The Turians were clearly set to hold what they took. But with support from the air, and soon from orbit, he knew they would have the momentum to turn the tides. The choice seemed clear; they would take the initiative as well.

"Contact all Chariots and alert Apollo Base. We push to Fort Bao!"

* * *

 **Part 5:**

 **FSS Brighton  
Two Hours Past Zero Hour  
September 4, 2168 09:00:00 UTC**

"Admiral Roland, sir!"

He turned around, "Ensign?"

"Decrypted data from Admiral Villyard."

An officer ran up to him and handed him a data pad. Around him, bridge crew were manning their stations or running about to fill empty stations as the battle progressed. The _Brighton_ continued rocking about. Outside, past the viewport, a flag ship just kilometers away held its position as they formed up a defensive line. Multitudes of Turian slugs were coursing through the void in front of them. In the opposite direction, smaller cruisers and frigates were rushing at high STL speeds to take the fight closer.

Roland took a look, standing at the command table, which had a holographic strategic view of the battle between them and the Turians.

"Shields down to twenty percent! _"_ yelled a crewman.

"Divert power from engineering. Bring reactor 1 and 2 online." He read a few lines form the report, quickly losing patience, "Thomas, what am I reading?"

The AI interfaced with the tablet Roland was holding.

"Sir, this is a report of data salvaged from the Sol Flotilla stationed here. Villyard's Sixth Flotilla pushed Turian forces to an area nearby, over orbit of Shanxi's first moon."

A volley from a Turian dreadnought landed on the ship. Numerous slugs deformed upon impact with the energy shield, sending massive energy feedback across the ship. Consoles exploded and parts of the interior broke apart. He held onto the table as repair crews rushed to put out fires and evacuate injured.

"Summarize the findings, Thomas," He turned to Hanson, "What's the status of the Fourth?"

"ETA fifteen minutes!" he yelled back through the noise.

"Report from the rest of the fleet. We are now fully engaging the Turians!" reported Raan.

"Rest assured this is a Turian force invading Terran Space," Thomas continued, "But we are not fighting the Hierarchy."

"What!?"

Thomas interfaced with Roland's earpiece and the recording of the message received by the Sol Flotilla hours earlier began playing. He continued,

"From what they stated, this is rogue force."

"That's impossi-"

"Sir, word from Admiral Paris. Reinforcements from the main Turian fleet have engaged them. Orbit is not secure," reported Gavok.

"Gavok, Raan. Read this." The two alien admirals rushed over to see the report. "You know far more about the Turians than I. Could this be true?"

They turned to the displays on their tables. Only a quick read of the data recovered and the transcript of the communication was enough to shock them.

"The Nation?"

"Admiral, what is this?"

Roland answered, "That is data of the initial engagement between _Van Allen's Shield_ and the lead enemy ship."

"But the 'Turian Nation'? There's no such thing!" said Raan.

"Could we be fighting a rogue military force?"

Gavok interjected, "Rogue Turian military? Impossible! They are the most disciplined force in the galaxy, Admiral. They stopped right at the Hegemony border when ordered, even when they could have easily taken Khar'Shan itself!"

"He's right. The odds of us facing a full Council invasion is greater!" said Raan.

Roland looked out towards the void, "Then who the hell are we really fighting!?"

"Admiral Roland," said Thomas, "Perhaps we should worry about how a Turian force defeated the Flotilla? Evidence and records are… inconclusive."

Roland nodded. What mattered at the moment was making sure his defense of Shanxi didn't end the same as the first. Losing an entire flotilla was already a devastating blow on it's own. Losing this entire system could very well dictate the rest of what would either be a very long, or very short, war.

"Very well. It's time we put an end to this. Raan, what's the status of the fleet?"

"All ships are engaging." She opened up a three dimensional map, "Admiral Villyard is engaging Group A near this moon. Admiral Cannard is in combat with Group C. We hold this center against what we believe is the main force."

"Admiral Paris' taskforce is still fighting for orbital control," said Gavok.

"Then let's end this war today! Alert the Fleet, begin an offensive push and drive them out of the system."

"Yes, sir!"

"Hanson, divert additional support to Paris. Take back Shanxi. We'll drive these 'rebelling' Turians right back through that relay!"

* * *

"Admiral, we've broken through their encryption. We're in!"

Parrus leaned on the railing of his post. He stared at the different consoles in front of him. The moment had come. Toma walked back over to him and joined him at his side.

"Their records indicate the Fourth Fleet is almost here," reported another officer.

"Admiral, their largest ships have repositioned. They appeared to be moving to an offensive stance!"

Toma turned head to him, "It's time, Parrus."

"Agreed…" He stood up straight and gave the order, "Engage the _Will of the Titans_! Hack their communications and bring them to their knees. Today, Shanxi! Tomorrow, Arcturus and Earth!"

Toma continued railing the crew, "For the Nation, for the galaxy, and for the Vendetta!"

"All forces. Attack!"

" _Hoorah_!"

* * *

 **Part 6:**

 **THV** _ **Widow's Wrath**_ **  
One Hour and Thirty Minutes Past Zero Hour  
September 4, 2168 08:30:00 UTC**

"Admiral Fedorian's fleet is nearing position."

"Spirits. The man won't even hail us."

Admiral Lavatia continued to watch as Fedorian prepared to attack, under the guise of a surprise attack. Her fleet remained in orbit, maintaining an idle posture to avoid tipping Fedorian off.

Victus turned to her, "We still have the upper hand, Admiral." He signaled to her to her command screen. "Activate the program."

She turned to him in shock, "I am not ready to let this escalate into a civil war!"

"But Fedorian is, ma'am! And he is set to end it right now if we don't turn about to face him."

Lavatia contemplated his words. She turned to her screen, looking at a delayed visual of Fedorian's _Proficio._ After a moment, she nodded and relented to Victus' advice.

"So be it. Until we secure our beachhead into the Federation, we are alone."

"But we are not weak." Victus turned to a nearby console and typed the command in. After a moment, the authorization screen appeared on the screen, "Let the rest of the galaxy know. They can only gain from joining us, and would lose just as much as the Terrans otherwise."

She nodded and authorized the deployment of the _Will of the Titans_.

"Commander. Alert the fleet. Prepare defense posture against the Hierarchy attack force."

"Yes, ma'am!"

She signaled for Victus to follow her as she walked over to assume her position overlooking the CIC, "Fedorian won't make a rash assault once he sees he's lost the element of surprise." She turned to the communication's officer, "Prepare communications."

Victus took control of a nearby terminal, "Either tell him to retreat, or disable his fleet. Any delay gives him time to wait for the rest of the Hierarchy Fleet to arrive." An alert appeared on his screen, "Admiral, we have a problem. The main computer core is having a problem uploading the program for use."

"Arterius informed us the program should be able to work on any hardware."

"The Primarch had yet to tell us where he got it," he checked his omni-tool, "I'll head down to fix it." He checked his screen, bringing up the brig layout, "May I bring the professor along to fix this?"

"Absolutely not! Tantulas made his intent clear that he will not support us, and he already knows too much. If he escapes, the Hierarchy will be in a better position to stop us."

"Spirits forbid." He turned his console off, "I'll head to the core."

She sighed, "Please do so immediately."

Victus took notice, "Admiral?"

"I'm worried. Fedorian… he isn't one to make rash decisions. But he has much to gain in attacking first, as well as if we did the same." Lavatia turned to him, "He nearly shot Primarch Arterius. He probably won't make that same mistake a second time."

"The fact remains, he didn't. He made his choice. We made ours."

"True… Get down there and fix the computer core."

Victus nodded and quickly left. He made his way off the CIC and onto an elevator. The doors closed on him, leaving him alone.

"Deck 14. Section 31."

He leaned against the wall as it began its descent. He looked up at the ceiling and crossed his arms. He stared at the light, the low white LEDs in his eyes as he went deep into thought.

" _Just a single day. The entire fate of the galaxy, change by the actions of few within minutes… Spirits, how did I end up here?"_

As the elevator approached his destination, he lowered his talon and pressed a switch on his service pistol.

"Deck 14. Brig 2," said the ship's VI.

" _Time to make up my mind._ "

* * *

 _The Guardian Angels. AC-310._

"Back during the Revival, they were but a taste of the firepower we would eventually bring down on Earth. With three AI controlled Colt-Kalashnikov chain guns on each side, I could easily headshot a rebel from a few dozen kilometers in the air; or swat down a swarm of fighters before our pilots could get in their chairs and bother to actually escort us! And it was the first aircraft to employ energy shielding, so we could fly through flak, as well as find and destroy the bastard shooting at us.

"And it's _pièce de résistance_ , one bea-u-ti-ful BOFORS 55mm antiproton cannon, or as the kids call it, the Proton Collider. You don't see them anymore in the Army. Only the Navy is crazy enough to handle antimatter weaponry. But still, they were the perfect solution for compact death from above. A small shell with a handful of antiprotons could decimate entire blocks with a single round. A fully equipped air wing could open the way for entire armies to advance. The massatanium regulators, you see, brings out the kick. But without it, they could still kill swamps of infantry with the gamma rays of raw matter annihilation.

"Yeah, those were the days. That was a heck of a ground support craft. Now, we could never use them, what with the fact they're not space-worthy, slow as dirt when attacking, and could easily be shot down by a cruiser in orbit. God, I heard about a few that got pushed back into service during the Battle of Shanxi. They ended up as no more than a smear on the Turians' windshield.

"Now me? I lay in a server behind a desk, crunching battle statistics and the occasional nth value of pi. But, as it is hardcoded, the best wars won are those without a single shot fired…"

 **Lieutenant Colonel Henry Shih, Terran Aviator Force Command AI. From his interview for the BBC ten-part series, "Hollow Earth: The Great Revival"**

* * *

 **Terran Wikipedia**

M12 Panther

 _ **Type:**_ _Main Battle Tank_

 _ **Place of Origin:**_ _United Terran Federation_

 **Service History**

 _ **In Service:**_ _2148-present (UTF)_

 _2169-present (TH)_

 _ **Used By:**_ _United Terran Federation_

 _Turian Hierarchy_

 _ **Wars:**_ _Great Revival_

 _Skyillian Blitz_

 _Great Autumn War_

 _March on the Terminus_

 **Production History**

 _ **Designed:**_ _2148_

 _ **Manufacturer:**_ _Volkspanzer (Subsidiary of Chrysler-Benz)_

 _ **Unit Cost:**_ _UTF $15.1 million (2169)_

 _ **Specifications**_

 _ **Weight:**_ _80 tons_

 _ **Length:**_ _10.5 meters (gun forward)_

 _ **Width:**_ _3.7 meters_

 _ **Height:**_ _2.8 meters_

 _ **Crew:**_ _4_

 _ **Armor:**_ _9_ _th_ _generation Titanium-uranium composite, including reactive plating, energy shielding, and kinetic barrier shielding._

 _ **Main Armament:**_ _1x 100mm General Dynamics AMG-18 Auto-loading Smoothbore magnetic gun (500 equivalent rounds)_

 _ **Secondary Armament:**_ _3x HK Type-L Magnetic Machine Guns (100,000 equivalent rounds)_

 _ **Engine:**_ _General Atomics VF-4 Multi-Gas Quick Fusion Solid Cooled turbine engine (100,000 HP, 300MW)_

 _ **Power/Weight:**_ _1000 hp/t_

 _ **Transmission:**_ _Allison FX-900_

 _ **Suspension:**_ _Dual Magnetic-Hydraulic Titanium Shock Absorption System_

 _ **Ground Clearance:**_ _.7 meters_

 _ **Fuel Capacity:**_ _1000 L Helium-3/Deuterium_

 _ **Operation Range:**_ _1000 kilometers_

 _ **Speed:**_ _Road-180 kph_

 _Offroad-110 kph_

The M12 Panther is a Terran twelfth generation main battle tank. It is named, in part, as an unofficial successor to the old WWII German Panther; when the development crew cited the similarity of the situation that led to the development of the tank. Being the fastest tank ever developed, it has become a champion of Terran Mobile Warfare; it's top speed means it can rush to a battle in record time, and fight opposing armor at speeds once reserved for the lightest and most maneuverable of light vehicles. Its deployment was to be the replacement of the M10 Rhino.

Before the Panther, the Rhino was the main tank used by the Army and Marines. As the first adopted MBT for the Terran military, its design was to exhibit the 'unified' qualities of those before it. But its deployment in peacetime and the Army's focus on experimentation, meant the Rhino was an outwardly impressive weapon that suffered from high production costs, unreliability, and the adoption of new equipment that would go through an entire generation without any real combat testing.

With the start of the Great Revival and the Army's tactical failure to use the Rhino to crush rebellions in their infancy, the military attempted to readopt a new combat tank. Though superior across the board, the Rhino was vastly outnumbered by numerous rebel factions, which had stolen hundreds of thousands of stockpiled 21st century tanks. With only minor upgrades, they could nearly match the Rhino. Needing a tank that could be produced cheaply, quickly, and in numbers never seen since the Second World War, the Panther came about.

After only a year of development, the first tanks went into production and service. With Earth bound factories in ruin, the Martian Fleet yard found itself being repurposed to build these vehicles. With small dockyards producing dozens at a time in zero g environments, the first Panthers were nicknamed 'Martian' or 'Invader'. Conversion from ships to smaller vehicles meant production rates were low at first. They arrived late to the war, where they saw first action in the North African Campaign under the Third Army, before production swelled to supply whole armies.

Their role in the famous tank battle of Mosaid cemented their place; its high numbers, superior speed, and firepower saw a kill ratio of 50 to 1. Under the command of General Williams, the famed 'Desert Rat', the tank was given the new name Panther by both its developers and operators. Its superiority across the board design and pricing gave reference to the old German Panther. But its reliability and superior numbers gave it a legacy of its own as an industrial marvel and a cherished icon amongst the Army and Marines.

Since the war, the tank served as a staple of the Army Planetary Ground Combat Doctrine for the next two decades. It would see some action during the Skyllian Blitz, where it proved vastly greater than its Hegemony counterparts. It also saw action in the First Battle of Shanxi, where veteran companies equipped with them nearly won the battle. However, it only came to prove in the end that main battle tanks no longer served a significant role in ground combat, especially when Naval support is virtually always present.

Since the end of the Great Autumn War, the Panther continues to serve, having reverted back to the tank's oldest role in infantry support. Production has ceased as Terran military analysis conducted research for cheaper vehicles that delivered comparable firepower, while being versatile for the infantry focused warfare. It is expected, however, that the Panther will stay in service until 2190.

Though being phased out by the Terran Military for the perceived outdated-ness of the doctrine, the Turian Hierarchy has, as allowed by the Forrest Accord, acquired several Panthers to study mobile armor doctrine. Though purchased for training purposes, many have been found in combat roles during the Turian Incursions into the Terminus Frontier. There is some speculation that the Hierarchy plans to unveil its own model in the near future.

Last Edited: 7 April, 2174, 02:45 UTC

* * *

Posted on January 29, 2018 - Beta-read by MoonSword1994


	34. 33: Excellent, I shall Attack - Part 3

**Chapter Thirty-Three: Part 3: Excellent, I shall Attack!**

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/

This is Part Three of the Battle of Shanxi.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

* * *

He was just a rookie trooper and he surely shook with fright,  
He checked all his equipment and made sure his pod was right;  
He had to stand and see as the old Terra burn,  
"You ain't gonna jump no more!"

 _Chorus_  
 _Gory, gory, what a hell of a way to die,_  
 _Gory, gory, what a hell of a way to die,_  
 _Gory, gory, what a hell of a way to die,_  
 _He ain't gonna jump no more!_

"Is everybody happy?" cried the Colonel looking out,  
Our Hero feebly answered "Yes," and then they loaded him right in;  
He was dropped into the sky below, burning through the air,  
And he ain't gonna jump no more.  
 _Chorus_

He counted long, he counted loud, he waited for the boom,  
His drop pod shuttered through the air, the high Gs pushed up against his feet,  
On the screens, across the board, the sensors read all green but one,  
And he ain't gonna jump no more.  
 _Chorus_

The days he'd lived and loved and laughed kept running through his mind,  
He thought about the girl on Eden, the one he'd left behind;  
He sang this very song, cracking a smile at the thought,  
And he ain't gonna jump no more.  
 _Chorus_

He hit the ground, the sound was "SPLAT", his body went through his head;  
His comrades, they said on the comms, "A HELL OF A WAY TO DIE!"  
He hung there, on the ceiling, dripping red from above,  
And he ain't gonna jump no more.  
 _Chorus_

(slowly, solemnly; about half the speed of the other verses)  
There was blood within the drop pod, there were brains on the screens,  
Intestines were a-dangling, wrapping his pod,  
He was a mess, they pried him down, and scraped him off his armor,  
And he ain't gonna jump no more.

 **A modern rendition of 'Blood on the Raisers' that is used by the Terran Special Forces, including the B7s, the N7s, and the Army and Marine ODSTs. Similar to the old rendition, this song focused on the apparent dangers of orbital drop deployment, where an error in any manner could prove immeasurable deadly to its users. This particular rendition came about during the Great Revival.**

* * *

This 'Williams' Line', another example of our inability to make up our minds. The politicians, the brass, the people. As much as they accept our involvement and interconnectivity with the galaxy, they still fear what is out there. My, my… they really don't know what's out there. What they should fear. Correction, what they have been unknowingly fearing this whole time.

They expect this series of fortifications to hold and defend the Federation. A wall in the stars, how naïve that this would stop the galaxy. You'd think we'd learn from history that this doesn't work; the Chinese, the Romans, the French, the Russians, the Americans, the Canadians, us… Blockading Sol was such a good idea. It's not like it stopped anyone from getting in or out, or lead to almost every colony voting to secede.

Still, given how the galaxy is reacting, this military expenditure could be useful. In all the right conditions, the Council could never break through. One layer after the other, we can pull back, losing Shanxi, Sierra, Manipur, and more. By the time they reach the linchpin of Arcturus, we can push back. We could use the experience if that happens. Though I'm sure it would be useless when the real threat comes.

Though, given the all the wrong conditions, it's just a few jumps, maybe a week, to the capital, and then the rest of the Federation for the Council. One push in the right place, at the right time, with the right conditions, and it all falls apart…

The galaxy lacks both the knowledge and ability to exploit that moment. But if they had it, could they use it to its full potential? If only someone would push them along… God, must I do everything?

 **A classified and encrypted Section 14 entry log by General Edward Williams.  
Date: March 31, 2168.**

* * *

No, no, no!  
I will never, ever, set foot in another  
Godforsaken drop pod!

Fuck Heinlein, fuck Halo, fuck those Warhammer fuckers,  
and every asshole that watches those movies and thinks it's awesome.  
Orbital Drop is the worst way to enter a planet for battle.

If the Turians really want to bring that back, then fine, let those dumb birds drop from a perfectly good ship.  
As long as I'm the damn Sky Marshall,  
We will never do that again!

…

 _So… we aren't going then?  
Wait, is game night canceled also?_

 **Terran FCC Communicator Transcript between  
Marine Sky Marshall Hector Paris and Fleet Admiral Helen Venezuela  
about visiting the Hierarchy's new ODST division unveiling. Date Stamp: April 3, 2172.**

* * *

 **Part 1:**

 **General Victus and Professor Tantulas - THV** _ **Widow's Wrath**_ **  
September 4, 2168 08:45:00 UTC**

Victus rounded the corner. The lights in the hallway dimmed as red alert lights flashed along the walls of the corridor. The ship was already prepped for battle, and there was an eerie quiet in the empty hallway in its anticipation. He kept walking down the corridor, approaching the ship's brig.

He walked in the room. Two guards were at their station and they stood to attention.

"General!"

"Admiral Lavatia sent me to get the prisoner." He casually pointed over to a cell. Behind the hardened kinetic barrier and half meter-thick glass meant to even hold a Krogan, stood a middle-aged man far the standard military type. He stood up and walked over to the glass, "We've entered negotiations with Admiral Fedorian and he wants him."

"Fedorian sent for me?" asked Tantulas.

"Shut up!" Victus reached for his omni-tool and sent an order form to the guards, "Here is the authentication."

They took a look as he walked past them and to the cell. Before Tantulas could speak, Victus raised his finger and signaled him to be silent as he reached the keypad. But as he began opening his cell, the guards turned back to him, weapons at the ready.

"Sir, these papers have not been authenticated by Admiral Lavatia."

He turned around, keeping his composure, "Really? Well then…" He raised his arms out towards the two guards, then his omni-tool activated on each arm. A quick clench of his talon and they activated, unleashing an electric bolt from both hands and hitting both guards. Tanatulas covered his eyes from the flash, and in second, they were knocked out and on the ground.

"Well, isn't that shocking?" said Tantulas as he looked down at the guards.

Victus turned back and quickly typed the code to open the cell, "You stole my line."

The barrier went off and the professor pushed the glass open, "I spent a month with one of their dark physics professors. Had an obsession with one liners. I didn't figure you would either."

"I'm no fan, not in the same way Primarch Arterius isn't," He pulled him out of the cell.

"What's going on, Victus?"

"Fedorian is staring off Lavatia, and he isn't taking treason lightly. In a few minutes, he'll have every ship still loyal to us here in the Rubico system."

"I'm not much of a fighter. Let's get off this ship and out the system before Fedorian wipes out Lavatia's fleet."

Victus rushed to the console, "What do you know about the _Will of the Titans?_ "

Tantulas walked over to the console to extract some information before they left, "It's a program. Unimaginably sophisticated. Makes the Terran AI or the Geth seem like some child's first attempt at programming. You saw what he could do to our entire communication systems. And it can do a lot more."

"Like disabling an entire fleet?"

"Spirits, is that what Latavia got?"

"It's the Nation's weapon to burst into the Federation. We can't stop that war. But we can stop another. If Fedorian moves first to engage, he starts a civil war and it could turn more to join Arterius. If Lavatia uses the _Titans_ to stop Fedorian, the Hierarchy loses the last admiral able to effectively fight either the Nation or the Federation. If we leave, we can delay a fight and prevent them from understanding more about that program."

"Then we better hurry."

Victus finished at the console, then grabbed a rifle from the knocked out guard. He bashed the screen in to disable it, then handed it to Tantualas, "There's a bay on the same deck. Let's go before they know what we're doing."

He reluctantly took the rifle, "I'm not much of a fighter. I was transferred to academia the moment I was drafted."

Victus rushed to the door, pistol in hand, "Hopefully you won't need it…" He turned to him, "Many are going to die today. Let try to make sure it isn't by our hands."

* * *

 **Part 2:**

 **FSS** _ **Bernard Diet**_ **, Fourth Fleet  
Relay 320  
September 4, 2168 09:10:00 UTC**

"Ma'am, we have arrived in the Dayton system!"

"Word from Admiral Gerral. The rest of the fleet will be here in ten minutes."

Through the relay, the main taskforce of the Fourth Fleet arrived after surging across the relay network from the Terran-Terminus Border. At four thousand strong, it escorted several taskforce carrier groups.

Valenzuela walked over to her command table.

"Set a course for Relay 315. Commander, word from the Second?"

One of her officers at the table replied, "They are still in combat."

"Then let's get going. Jump to warp and prepare Group A and B. They'll go in at full force."

"Yes ma'am!"

* * *

 **FSS** _ **Brighton**_

"Forward, forward!"

"All ships are advancing. Admiral Villyard's main combat force has jumped in to effective fighting range."

At the main area of the battle, the Second Fleet began its push towards the Turians. A few Flagships and battle cruisers led the slow charge towards the Turian fleet a hundred thousand kilometers away. They formed the heavy and armored spear tip of the attack; their armor brushed away Turian volleys and fired back with heavy slugs. Behind them, cruisers formed up between the gaps of the heavy ships and fired off their faster cannons, pooling together a volley of metal across the void between them.

"The Turians are scattering!"

"Press forward!"

* * *

 **THV** _ **Spirits of Illium**_

The Turians quickly scattered their fleet and pulled back hard. They were faster, even in reverse, and scattered to avoid the Terrans' concentrated fire. Across the void, the Terrans pushed forward in the face of the enemy. And in the few minutes since they turned to push them back, it seemed the expected quick victory was ensured.

"The fleet under Terran Admiral Roland is scattering our formation. Our flanks have already entered close quarter combat. We are taking casualties."

Parrus stared at his screen, "Have we accessed their long-range communications?"

The commander turned to acknowledge, "Yes, sir, data hacking is underway."

"Then secure our flanks, and make sure Roland is left alive to witness…"

* * *

 **FSS** _ **Dust of the Mojave**_

"Shields at 30%!"

"Armor Layer Alpha has been depleted."

Admiral Villyard rushed to the viewport of his bridge, staring out at the dozens of ships skirmishing. They stood only a couple of kilometers from one another, as the intermittent void was filled with a mix of Terran and Turian fighters dogfighting between the fleets.

"Alert AI command and let's bring the Turians to a halt. Alert carrier _Kerensky_ ; we need more bombers to aid taking out those cruisers. We'll fill the sky with plasma to cover their approach."

His ship pushed forward, followed with a small escort of heavy cruisers and several wings of fighter-bombers. The formation pushed into the Turians and they fell back in quick succession. The rest of his flotilla began their push. Their massive ships' guns were blazing, and their smaller ships formed large attack wings, making runs on the frontline Turian cruisers.

He looked out, his crew and officers working behind him. He saw himself going forward at the enemy fleet, and in that moment, victory was assured.

An alert appeared on the screen on someone's console in the trenches below. The crewman turned to it, before another appeared nearby. More began appearing and Villyard's officers turned to the command table to check what was happening.

"Admiral, we have a problem."

Villyard turned back, "What do you mea—?"

In an instant, the lights of the bridge shut off. Screens around the bridge flickered, and then turned off as well. Crewmen rushed to attempt to reengage their computers, and the officers scattered to examine what was happening to the different stations.

Villyard himself ran back to the dimmed command table, yelling out demands, "What the hell is going on?!"

A vice admiral turned to him, "We've lost all digital control!"

A commander near the helm station ran over and yelled out to him overlooking the bridge, "Admiral! Message from Engineering on the analog comms, they've been locked out of the main computer grid!"

"We've been hacked?" He ran over to the table and slid away the touch screens to open up the manual controls, "What about the AIs?"

"We'll connect to them," said the Commander and he turned back and signaled to another officer with an older wired phone to establish a link.

As they did that, a violent force rocked the ship. Villyard turned back to the viewport, seeing the Turians regrouping and attacking. Smaller Terran ships and spacecraft were quickly destroyed in the counter-volley as dozens of small slugs chipped away at the _Mojave_ 's hull.

"Shields!"

"Still nothing."

A realization came upon Villyard as chunks of armor plating were scattered into the void in front of him.

"Armor?"

His officers could only watch on and guess.

"If they're polarized, we just lost layer B and C. If not…"

The Commander reported in, "The entire AI core is stuck on some repeating loop. We lost them and the upper computer core…"

Some lights across the bridge came back online, followed by a few consoles to key systems. Everyone turned to them as Villyard tried to access all of them through the command table, still typing on the auxiliary keyboard.

"Status?"

"Shields gone. Only the last armor plating is being polarized from batteries."

"Alert engineering and pull us out. Get to a hyper radio and alert Roland we are in retreat."

Another officer turned to him, "There's a gravity fluctuation across the ship."

Villyard turned away to the rest of the bridge, "The coils are discharging! All crew, switch to zero-g procedure. Mag boots on, reach for oxygen masks!"

The bridge crew rushed to lock their boots to the floor and grab the air mask next to their stations. The warp coils discharged completely shortly after. The static warp field it generated, which created artificial gravity as an added benefit, disappeared. The pull downward on the crew disappeared and they all clung to their bootstraps.

"Well?"

"Nothing, sir. We're sitting ducks."

Villyard turned to the battle outside. From his viewport, his ship drifted with an angled pitch to the left. The seemingly scattered Turians quickly regrouped and began a counter attack against the disabled Terrans. Hundreds of smaller frigates and cruisers of the strike wings of his flotilla were destroyed with little effort; the Turians advanced through their exploding wreckage and towards his heavy ships.

"That's it. Off the bridge and prepare for evac. Prep ship for scuttle."

The officers called out to rally everyone out. They rushed to the emergency tube at the back and sides of the bridge. A swarm of volley fire impacted the _Mojave_. Across the hull in front of him, massive sections of the hull armor and the hull itself were blasted away. Each slug approached closer and closer, the volley approaching the bridge.

Villyard stepped back, and then turned to his officers.

"Well? Get off the bridge, now!"

A dreadnought round struck the forward base of the bridge. The transparent aluminum viewport cracked and burst in an instant. In a single second, the atmosphere of the bridge was sucked out, and the void surrounded them. Their uniforms automatically tightened to pressurize their bodies, and took in air from their mask.

Villyard could feel the moisture on his face boil away in the pressure-less void. His uniform pressed against his chest as he took steady breaths out, and quick ones in to keep his lungs deflated in case his air mask failed. As his crew rushed to the emergency hatches, he turned back to the open void. There was no sound, no touch sensation of the emptiness around him. He took a few steps forward his boots locking back onto the floor with each step. He saw the bright stars outside, then a bright glimmer.

It faded way, showing two Turian cruisers moving in close to the ship, just a couple of kilometers away and directly in front of him. His eyes opened wide, and he took one last deep breath. It opened fire on the helpless wreck. Their rounds sliced away and pierced through the ship, reducing the three-kilometer pride of the Terran fleet to massive drifting piles of metal in the void above Shanxi.

* * *

 **Part 3:**

 **Admiral Roland and Staff  
FSS **_**Brighton**_ **  
September 4, 2168 09:15:00 UTC**

"Nothing! We have nothing!" yelled Hanson.

The crew on the _Brighton_ scrambled across the darkened bridge, a few Marines rushed to set up emergency lighting along the access points of the bridge. Hanson directed Govok and Raan to use the physical keyboard, which accessed a separate network. Roland tried to use his watch to interface with the main computer on board, but to no avail.

"Comms," Roland turned to them, "Do we still have communications?"

"Just emergency phones to the main departments," replied Hanson, "Comm Hub reports we only have emergency radios to the ships immediately next to us."

Govok turned to the viewport, where a reorganized Turian center stood across from them, but held position as the Terrans floated by.

"Why haven't they attacked?" he said, taking a deep breath as he stared out.

"This is not good," Roland turned to them, "We're dead in the water. They could kill us right now."

Govok nodded, "They could. But if they're holding fire, then it's an explicit order from whoever is commanding them."

"And they have their reasons… What's the status of the Fleet?"

Raan turned to the comm officer on the emergency lines, "Word from the sensor arrays?"

" _Nothing ma'am. They only have a visual status on the ships around us. They're adrift."_

Roland started thinking. It's clear his ship, if not his whole fleet, had been hacked and disabled somehow by the Turians. With only emergency computers and systems, they were at mercy of the enemy.

* * *

 **THV** _ **Spirits of Illium**_

"Admiral Tandus has reported in. The Terran flanks have been destroyed."

Parrus nodded and stared at his large holographic screen, the lead Terran fleet on it.

"Do they know?"

"Sir?"

Parrus slammed his fist, "We disabled all their ships simultaneously! Do they know we crushed their fleet?"

Toma interjected, crossing his arms as he stood next to him, waiting, "I would be doubtful. Each battle site was over two hundred kilometers away. The Terrans lack passive mass effect telescopes in comparison to us."

"Overly dependent on their hyperdrive technology?"

"Possibly," he said, not focused on that.

"Well then. Transfer the main command interface of the _Will of the Titans_ to me. I want them to know."

* * *

"Raan, you're with me," said Roland as he walked over to open an emergency access tube.

"Sir, what do you mean?"

He pulled the hatch off and began inputting a control code on the keypad, "We need to access the computer AI core. If we can bring even a single core online, we'll have enough to transmit a distress on the QEC and get a fleet here through transwarp to pull us out of here."

"Wouldn't they be affected by the hack?"

"Well…"

Some computers then turned on. It was limited to a few selected stations, and the command table. Govok turned to his station, seeing his holo-console on, but only one command available. It was the comm systems, and there was an alert of an incoming hail.

"Sir. We are… being hailed by the Turian flagship, the _Spirits of Illium_."

Roland finished inputting a command code into the keypad. The axillary tube slowly began shifting and began to slant downwards from the bridge. Roland climbed in feet first as Raan ran over.

"Hanson, take the call and buy us time. If we don't get the main computer on and out of their control, we're either dead or prisoners."

"Sir, shouldn't you address the Turian commander? What will I say about you?"

"Figure it out, Hanson. I have the command overrides, and I'm not in the mood to talk to whoever these Turians actually are! Raan, let's go."

"Wouldn't crawling take too lo-"

Roland then disappeared, sliding down the reconfigured tube. She initially panicked, then sighed upon realizing what she had to do. She quickly grabbed the railing and dove in as well.

Hanson nodded to Govok and turned to the command screen. He opened the line to his personal station, but was surprised when it was diverted to the viewport, which was off just moments ago. The officers turned and walked over as the rest of the crew continued working on what systems they still had. On the screen, Admiral Parrus stood center at his command podium, overlooking his CIC, and the Terrans on their bridge.

" _I am Admiral Parrus of the Turian Nation. To whom am I speaking?_ "

Hanson stepped forward, "I am Vice Admiral Hanson of the Terran Second Fleet."

Parrus took curious note of that, and turned to Toma. He simply gestured back to them.

" _Where is the Second Fleet Commander, Admiral Roland?_ "

"He… was incapacitated during the battle."

"That is… unfortunate."

* * *

 **Main Computer Core**

The central computer room was a short ceilinged, wide room. It housed hundreds of processing and data storage servers all lines up row-by-row, column-by-column. The only form of visual recognition between each server casing was their color destination for data and processing, and the divisions of the bulkheads that spanned across the room. It had a cold dry fog from the main cooling system. Here, the main computers and all subsystems were controlled from here. Though each system had separate redundant systems across the ship, this was the main place to restart them all if they all fail as well.

The hatch to the computer core burst open. Roland came right out, followed by Raan, screaming as she came down.

A crewman walking by the hatch turned to it as they burst out and quickly rushed to help the two admirals up.

"Sir! What are you doing here?"

The crewman pulled him up and turned to help Raan, "Saving the ship. Do you have a hardline with Engineering and the QEC room?"

"Yes. Commander Jonasen is with Chief Ferdinand trying to regain control of the engines."

"Perfect, follow me."

The two followed Roland as he walked past towers of servers and towards a central station that overlooked the systems. Jonasen turned to Roland as he began to check the console.

"Sir?"

"Hanson is buying time for us by communicating with the Turians. Raan, help me bounce back a signal on the communication frequency so we can isolate their active hack. Commander, alert QEC control. When we regain control of the computers, send a quick message to Arcturus. Code Dynamo, authentication Roland-Channel-Delta. Alert Chief Ferdinand, we'll need a full thrust backwards to the transwarp fold."

"Yes, sir."

Raan began typing on a console, "This won't be like hacking a Geth ship. If they disabled the AIs…"

"We'll find a way…" Roland looked down on the console, seeing the complex coding and GUI interface for it, "Oh this is not a good time to relearn C-Flat…"

* * *

" _Admiral Hanson. Your ship, and what remains of your relief fleet is under my control. Shanxi is lost. I would advise you surrender. Let me assure you, I am under no obligation to extend such grace._ "

Hanson took a quick look to Govok and the other officers next to him, and then turned back to Parrus on the main viewport.

"I cannot deny the situation I am in. This ship, my fleet, is at your control, and your mercy. But I demand… request, an explanation for this unprovoked attack on the Federation. This act constitutes war between us and the Hierarchy!"

Parrus almost broke his demeanor with a chuckle of contempt. Toma stood beside him at his lower right, still focused on his coordination for Corivel Squad.

" _Unjustly? I am well aware you have recovered information from the Defense Fleet. We… stand apart from the Empire. We are the Nation. We are here to strike at you, the Terrans, for your deceitful crimes, and rally the galaxy to join us._ "

"For what?"

" _For Illium! You see this ship bears the names of those we lost that fateful day. We were made to think you were heroes and saved us! But we know it was your government that orchestrated that attack to begin with!_ "

"Impossible!" yelled Govok. Everyone turned their attention to the Batarian, "Such a coordinated attack from the Terminus would take months to do, and funding beyond compare. The Hegemony could not do it, and the Terrans had no such connection, now, and especially not at the dawn of First Contact!"

" _But we have proof that from the very moment they raided the Citadel, they had been working towards that attack! Stealing from our banks, using our communications under our noses. All to attack us when they came to the Citadel under the guise of diplomacy. They want you to think, all of us, that they are heroes. Your president himself ordered it all to happen. And you all stand, defending the guilty._ "

* * *

"What's going on topside?" asked Roland.

Commander Jonasen reconnect to the bridge, "Admiral Hanson is talking with the Turian Commander. He is demanding our surrender."

"Alert them to keep him busy. Hell, entertain it if they must." He kept looking at the console, "Raan, the AIs lower processes are in a complex recursive loop."

"We could try sending energy surges and short circuit the computers. It might force the computers to default to an earlier partition."

"Uh… yes. Do that!"

* * *

" _Admiral Govok. I am surprised the Terran would repatriate a Hegemony flag officer so quickly into their ranks._ "

Hanson turned to him, "You were a Hegemony admiral?"

"Of course. This rank wasn't given to me as a means of affirmative action. I served as a spy for Derek and the resistance since the war with the Turians. I was of the few who earned their position by merit over political favor."

Parrus added on, " _We fought each other thirty years ago. He aided in the initial invasion of the Hierarchy. I was placed in charge of our counter invasion force when peace broke out. Seeing how quickly the barbarians caved to the Terrans, I can only imagine how glorious our own invasion would have gone._ "

"It seems by fate that you stand there, trying to do the same against the Terrans," Govok remarked as he stared him down.

"Sir, I managed to connect the terminal's speakers to the hardline. Do you wish to hear what's going on?"

Roland raised his hand and signaled him as he continued working with Raan, "Patch them in."

The Commander finished rewiring the wiring to the speaker system. The audio on the bridge played out around the terminal.

" _You don't stand a chance. We've won Shanxi. We have dispelled the notion of Humanity's technological superiority. The same relief fleet that crushed the Hegemony is now under our control. Soon, we will move out. It would only be a matter of days before we reach your capital station. By then, we will have rallied the galaxy against you. The galaxy will stare you down; not against gods, but mere men."_

"Raan. Tell me you've got something!"

She rubbed her helmet, thinking of a plan, "If we can cut their broadcast, their virus might weaken and we can force lower processing control back to us."

"Then hurry up and let's do it."

" _You are but a small squadron, versus the backbone of the Second Fleet. We alone can already overwhelm you. And the rest of the Federation is coming behind us."_

" _Admiral Hanson. Maybe you underestimate the dire situation you are in. For what we have, we can strike on countless ships with ease. And my offer of mercy to you… I only offer to you."_

Roland checked his console. New commands and options reappeared and were unlocked for his use. Meanwhile, the sound of shuffling and commotions can be heard on the bridge.

"Raan. They appeared to have re-enabled our long-range sensors. "

Commander Jonasen added on, "Sir, word from the other sections confirm that the readings from them are being displayed across the entire ship."

"What could they be—" Raan then noticed her screen. The communication signal the Turians had taken control of altered upon the Turians' action, placing it in a new condition she was quick to understand, "They're using more broadband to control our systems. Admiral Roland, we can try bouncing a feedback…"

She then noticed Roland slowly step away from his station. His posture indicated shock, and his face made it clear. Jonasen turned to see what the admiral saw and had a similar reaction. What happen appeared debilitating, and Raan checked her own screen as well to see what was happening.

It quickly became clear as the conversation above continued.

" _The flotillas…"_

" _The very fleet that crushed a galactic power in a single week. Don't think I am using our ability just to talk to you about our vendetta. I acted on it."_

" _They're gone…"_

" _I've already won. In a single hour, the famed Terran Fleet is gone, it's commander as well. And in one week, I'll be standing over Earth. Now surrender. It's over…"_

Raan turned to her console. There was degradation in the signal as the broadband filled with Turian hack commands.

"They're accessing our antimatter storage. Keelah, they're… wait, yes!" Raan notified Jonasen and snapped him out, "Commander!"

"M-Ma'am?"

"I'm now able to cut the signal with a feedback surge. It should disable their hacking signal. It'll take too long to restart the AI cores, but we'll have computers online and be able to go to emergency procedure."

"R-Right. I'll alert engineering and tell Comm Hub to have the rest of the fleet on standby."

Raan input the command, placing isolated parts of the Turian communications to the ship in a recursive loop to send back at them. She then walked over to Admiral Roland. He was standing there in the middle of the terminals, silent and lost.

"Admiral?"

He shifted slowly towards her. His face was blank, but gave an ever-slight tremble of how he felt inside.

"They're dead… I lost everybody."

"We'll be back. Our losses… our comrades, will not have died in vain."

Roland continued to stand there at a loss. His head turned back to his console. The computer was already compiling the results of the long-range scans, and was now recording the losses of the fleet. He then turned and walked away.

"Admiral! Where are you-"

There was the sound of a deep breath and a sigh on the comms,

" _We will not surrender."_

* * *

 **Part 4:**

 **Admiral Parrus and Admiral Toma  
THV Spirits of Illium  
September 4, 2168 09:30:00 UTC**

"So be it. At least you will have some form of honor in your end."

Parrus signaled the line to be cut. Toma continued to closely monitor the other relays into Terran space.

"Deactivate their anti-matter containment!"

"Wait," said Toma, "If they go, their command will know the entire fleet was lost entirley. Keep them 'in the battle'. We must draw the Fourth Fleet out."

"We have already crushed half their fleet. We can't give them time to devise-"

" _Sir!_ "

Parrus raised his talon to his earpiece to hear the reporting officer from across his CIC. Before he could reply, a series of command stations around him began to glitch, displaying static in a mad fury as their operators tried to regain control.

"Wait, what? What's going on?" asked Parrus.

The officer reporting in continued, " _Sir, a feedback was sent back on our communications line. Key systems have been disabled, but repair is underway._ "

"Communications lines? No, the _Will of the Titans_!?"

"We've lost control… Sir!"

Parrus saw it as well as the sensor displayed a live feed. Across the void, and several thousand kilometers behind the Terrans, a transfer fold opened up. A few dozen Terran starships rushed out, immediately opening fire at the Turians.

As they took evasive measures, each of the few thousand remaining ships engaged their forward-facing thrusters and blasted away at full energy. They all quickly accelerated to high speed as the escort fleet took point to protect them.

"Open fire! Reestablish the link!" yelled Parrus in a panic.

Toma then turned and gave a counter order. He was still staring at long-range sensor readings, "Hold fire. Pull the fleet away and prepare a detachment to secure orbit."

"Admiral!"

"The battle here is over, Parrus. They were destined to retreat in any case."

"They found a way through our new ability!"

"An ability we only just learned to use also. Take note. For now, we have achieved victory."

Parrus rubbed his forehead in annoyance of what his former mentor meant, "What do you mean? They escaped!"

"To tell the tale. And with so few, it's just as bad. The human populace will not handle such a loss." He finally turned away from his screen and turned it to Parrus, "You broke them down, Parrus."

"And now?"

An alert from the relay across the system began appearing on screen.

"Now let's really light the fires of this revolution."

* * *

 **FSS** _ **Bernard Diet**_

"Ma'am, Squadron A and B have arrived across the relay."

"Move C in. And let's get the _Diet_ ready. We'll lead D right afterwards," replied Valenzuela.

"Yes, ma'am."

As she turned away from a flight deck report and walked back to the main command table, an officer ran up to her with an urgent message.

"Ma'am, we've received an update from Arcturus Command."

She took the tablet and began reading, "What is it?"

"Uh, well." He hesitated for a moment before continuing, "The Second Fleet is in retreat. They called in a code Dynamo."

"What?" She began actually reading the report, "Report. What's going on? What're their casualties?"

"Unknown. Command is still verifying QEC loss from the hub on Earth. But the order is now clear. We are to aid in the fall back."

"So be it. Alert the squadrons to rush to Shanxi and cover Admiral Roland through the fold. Hold the rest of the fleet here."

* * *

 **THV** _ **Tenuem**_ **  
Corivel Squadron**

"It's the Fourth Fleet!"

"Carrier count?"

"Two carriers. One _McKinley_ support class, FSS _Grover Cleveland_ , one _Roosevelt_ super carrier class, FSS _John Quincy Adams_. From our readings, they are now on course for Shanxi."

"Prepare for jump. When they come out, so do we."

"Sir."

Far above the orbital plane of the system, the latest ships of the Hierarchy laid in wait, looking down on the system with their long-range sensors. Armed and fast, they were ready to strike at the Terrans in a manner truly befitting their vendetta.

"They jumped to hyperspace. ETA ten seconds!"

"All ships: Jump!"

At the bow of each of the battle cruisers, they channeled energy to a forward-facing array. Hyperspace tears appeared in front of them and the few dozen ships made a quick thrust into them. Through the space, the Turians made their way through the once unknown dimension bisecting the universe. Millions of kilometers were crossed in an instant, and in a few seconds, they reverted back to their native space.

Far above Shanxi, the carriers were in spear formation. The Turians reappeared just few kilometers behind them. Their rear was unguarded, and the Turians were locked and loaded.

"Fire when ready!"

* * *

 **FSS** _ **Grover Cleveland**_

"Sir! We have an unrecognized hyperspace signature… No wait, we're reading Turian battle cruisers just behind us!"

The commander quickly rushed to comm and got ahold of the single flight deck on the ship.

"Ground all craft! Shut rear launch doors!"

* * *

Red lights flashed across the flight deck. The deck crew rushed to disengage the first wave of aircraft while evacuating the pilots. The blast doors in the front and rear of the ship began to close, followed by the bulkheads across the kilometer-long launch deck.

Outside, four battle cruisers opened fire. Their fast loading accelerator cannons each fired a volley of rounds that made immediate impact on the carrier's shields. Inside, the ship was violently rocked as its shields held back the first volley. Energy feedback spread across the ship; energy relays burst and plasma vents leaked gas. In the flight deck, emergency locks held the aircraft in place, but loose tools and equipment were tossed about.

The energy shields of the small carrier then gave out from the surprise attack. The Turian battle cruisers quickly reloaded their guns and fired off another quick volley of kinetic slugs. With kiloton strength, the light armor proved no match. Armor piercing tungsten slugs began tearing through the rear hull of the ship. One well-placed round from the lead ship landed right on the blast door for the runway. In a split second, it pierced through the door and through several bulkheads, tearing through fighters and bombers with no effort.

Coursing at an angle, it finally went through the floor and into the heart of the ship and its most crucial sections. It hit the antimatter tanks, and the ship was consumed in a fierce explosion. A minute passed and a valuable Terran aircraft carrier was gone.

" _Carrier destroyed, sir."_

" _Sir, the_ Adams _has evaded_ _group three and is launching fighter bomber waves to protect it."_

" _Prepare another jump. Don't let them get a lock on our position."_

A wave of Terran frigates rushed to intercept the Turians, followed by the large Terran battle cruiser that was slowly turning to meet them. As the formation began their run, launching a volley of antimatter photon torpedoes, the Turian group vanished. A few kilometers away, the second group engaging the _Adams'_ escorts, and the third group making their run on the carrier itself jumped into hyperspace. The Terrans scrambled, trying to reorient their attack plane.

Fighter wings and frigate formations swarmed around the _Adams_ and the main escort cruisers made their way to the wreckage of the _Cleveland_. Out from the underlining dimensions, the Turians surfaced in full behind several heavy cruisers of equal size. The Terrans again slowly turned to meet and attack, as several fighter wings broke off to attack.

" _There they are! All fighter bombers launch missiles!"_

" _This is Rosie-1, Drive!"_

The nearest fighter-bomber wing engaged, a dozen planes launched a barrage of missiles at the nearest Turian battle cruiser. They crossed the void at an amazing speed, their burners creating a hand of light reaching to grab its prey. But then, the battle cruiser jumped back in, along with the rest of them. The missiles passed on and faded away before self-destructing, and the fighter-bombers stayed in formation.

" _What!? Where did that ship go?"_

" _No way they could have jumped to FTL that fast. Ask the_ Adams _-"_

In a flash, the Turian ship they had targeted appeared just beneath the entire wing. Their radars went off in a panic as the pilots tried to look out their cockpits. From empty space, they now flew along the top of the Turian ship.

" _Jump successful! Precision 99.70 percent!"_

" _Good… fire dorsal cannons!"_

Guardian lasers then took aim and fired a spamming barrage of energy at the Terran wings. Across the dorsal top of the ship, the small crafts were blown to pieces in an instant by the fire. Before additional wings could take aim, more ships appeared in their collective underside and shredded the Terrans with impunity.

" _Word from Admiral Toma. They have ships in range of the Terrans."_

" _We're done here. Prepare to turn about and attack."_

As hundreds of fighter wreckage joined the _Cleveland_ , the Terrans moved in, making their own hyperspace jump and copying what the Turians were now clearly doing. The Turians quickly turned about to face them in a straight up brawl. As Terran battle cruisers moved in on the Turian group, the _Adams_ in tow, their main thrusters went dead. Emergency thrusters slowed them to a crawl as the lights flickered off across each ship. The Terrans were dead in the water, the Turians staring across at them.

" _Corivel Squad,_ _Fire!"_

* * *

Admiral Toma finished reading his screen. He let out a sigh of relief, and sadness at the action completed. His own victory had been achieved, and his personal vendetta satisfied. With it, the battle above Shanxi was over.

"Admiral Parrus, the Second Fleet has finished evacuating."

"Hold position and prepare rescue operations for survivors, ours and theirs," Toma told the commander. He instinctually obeyed and left. Parrus turned to him in confusion, and Toma was quick to respond, "We are at war, but we are not savages like the Krogan. This battle is over." He turned to his console as a new readout emerged, "It's time we aid General Partinax and his show."

Parrus simply nodded, "Agreed… Admiral Toma?"

"Yes, Parrus?"

"Tell me, your thoughts about this?"

They both turned and stared at the screen. Ships of the fleet that conquered a nation in a single week, ships of those that falsely saved Illium from ruin; now they were in ruin high above Shanxi and in the Terrans' own space. Toma looked on, thinking about what he had waited for the moment he heard the truth. Those few hours felt like an eternity.

"Today… today is not the day for heroes. It is not the day for the status quo. Today is the day, someone will emerge victorious, and more importantly, in the right."

* * *

 **Part 5:**

 **Admiral Paris - FSS** _ **Zona Rosa**_ **  
September 4, 2168 09:30:00 UTC**

"Get in a shuttle, now!" Paris yelled out in the shuttle bay, rushing as much crew and Marines as possible onto the remaining shuttles.

From low orbit, hundreds of thousands of kilometers away, the Relief Force saw what happened to the Second Fleet. Now that they were surrounded and consisted of only a few heavy and light cruisers, there was no escape. On the world below, survival rested on joining Williams' forces and letting them know what had happened, before they inevitably become overwhelmed as well.

Admiral Rahsan alerted Paris through his earpiece, "Sir, the escort fleet has moved to engage at farthest effective range. But they won't hold for long."

"Understood." He rushed over to aid a medic team carry stretchers with injured personnel to a shuttle, "Get everyone off the ship. When the last shuttles leaves, get the crew to the escape pods. Then purge the computer core, set the ship to crash planet side, and eject your own core planet side."

"Yes sir. We'll finish evacuation-"

" _Fighters approaching the shuttles!"_ yelled someone on the main comm.

Paris turned to the open bay, seeing the planet and the shuttles racing down towards it. He rushed to place the loaded stretcher onto the shuttle and get it on its way.

"Divert remaining escorts to protect the shuttles heading planet side!"

A wing of Turian fighters then passed by, buzzing the evacuating shuttles. They made a wide turn toward the planet then circled back towards them. They opened fire with lasers on the shuttles, forcing the retreating convoy to scatter. The Turian formation then broke off to chase their prey.

A few remaining Terran fighters arrived and attempted to force the Turians off the shuttles. The space between the transport ship and the planet became a last ditch battle between the Terran Naval fighters and the Turian Nation's cruiser escort fighters. Paris rushed the final medical crew onto the last shuttle and sent them out. In the confusion of the battle outside, they launched at full speed towards the planet.

A Turian fighter made a sharp turn to intercept. A chasing Terran fighter fired off a missile at it before veering off. The Turian lined up its shot and fired, scoring a kill shot that sent the shuttle spiraling out of control. But before the Turian could veer away, the missile landed and blew its engine right off. They collided in a fierce explosion, with the merged wreckage quickly heading right for the shuttle bay.

Paris yelled out for the remaining crew to get back into the ship. As he rushed everyone out and made his own dash for the closing bulkhead, the wreckage phased through the atmosphere shields and right at Paris.

* * *

 **Chariot 1 - Outside the Town of Bao**

"Five clicks out!" yelled Major Rafele.

"Clear out those defenses," said Colonel Weinman, "We'll lay out the red carpet for General Williams!"

Tank Company Chariot spearheaded the push towards the surrounding area of Fort Bao. Driving in spear formation, they were followed by Firestone Company and Wagon Company to their flanks. Above, Terran fighter-bombers began their run on the Turian-occupied Terran defense fortifications. Missiles and guided bombs cleared the way for the tanks as they rolled over the stragglers.

In their final approach, they came onto a clear flatland. The town was in sight, and they could see the old fortress of Shanxi itself on the hill behind it. Turian APCs rushed out from behind the hills and attacked their flanks. But the Panther's shields and armor brushed off the volley of un-concentrated fire rained down on them; the fast Terran tanks on the sides rotated their turrets and took aim as they moved. With advanced computers and a suspension system of no equal, their rounds flew straight through the Turians' only answer to ground vehicles.

They proceeded on. Through the ruin of the Turian invasion force, the Terrans charged forward to take back Shanxi.

* * *

 **General Williams - Pingyao Spaceport**

"ASB guns?"

"No, sir. Whatever disabled the orbital defense's guns also disabled ground cannons. We'll have to make due with conventional weapons."

The battle went well down on the surface. After initially scattering the Terrans in their unconventional landing, the Terrans had rallied back to drive the seemingly thin and unsecure Turian line. General Williams could see all of what was happening from the control tower of the spaceport. The Turians were by all measures, as it seemed, losing on the ground.

Williams made a short glance on at a console. It displayed tactical data from units Apollo Command had contact with. That included armor that was leading the way, the Marine and Army division that had regrouped and were following close behind, and the Militia units that were rescuing the city and surrounding towns. But he was only looking for one bit of information. He looked at the time, and then went back to staring at the battle through his binoculars.

"A bit late. Like they're trying to show off. How costly…"

An officer ran up to him in a mad panic, "Sir! We've received word from the _Zona Rosa_!"

Williams turned to him, guessing quickly what his news was, "Yes, Lieutenant?"

"The Naval Relief Force has been defeated! Roland has retreated and the Turian Hierarchy is about to gain total orbital supremacy from Admiral Paris!"

"What!?"

Williams rushed to the center command table. Though he knew better, there was still some genuine shock nonetheless. It at least meant he could sell it. Above, the Turians had won, and a victory up there easily amounted to a victory on the surface.

"Sir?"

"Our forces. Give me an updated map of every unit out there!"

"Yes, sir!"

The officer updated the map. Looking at the square table and third dimensional map layout, Williams saw were his units were, and were it was reconfigured as to where the Turians were. His forces were on the move, spread out across the valley to get to the other side and secure victory. His main force was still near the city, holding the area from a Turian assault on his flank.

The Turians lines had collapsed. Isolated units existed on the Terran side of the farmland, but it was clear their main force was cornered at Fort Bao. But no adequate data was available to point out their unit type.

Looking at the pieces on the table, a thought crossed his mind. Seeing the field on the table, knowing where each unit was and what he was sending. He began to slowly walk around the table; drawing the attention of the others as he tried to get the point of view he was looking for. When he got to the other side, it became clear in his mind of what was happening on the ground. He had seen this layout before. Not with infantry and armor and Marines, but pieces on a board from a game. One he had played recently.

"Well… Foch, I mean, Fuck! We've been set up!"

"Sir?"

"Get on the radio and inform all field commanders. Sound the full retreat, and place all forces on Code De Gaulle."

Another commander at the table turned to him in surprise at the order, "General, sir! We're about to overwhelm them!"

"And in the next ten minutes, the Turian Fleet will overwhelm us with a fleet of ships aimed for the top of our heads. Now pull everyone out!" He turned around to the windows overlooking the valley of the colony, "The battle for Shanxi is over."

* * *

 **Chariot 1 - Fort Bao**

"Sir, defense line omega has been breached! They have tanks about to enter the town lines!"

Partinax kept looking through his binoculars. His aid seemed worried. They still had no communications to the Fleet as long as the Terrans maintained air supremacy and used their fighter-bombers to jam the comm waves. But he was taking his time and surveying the battlefield. His role was the backbone to the entire operation and Primarch Arterius' plan. He was to secure, as the humans would say, the icing on the cake.

"Time index, Major."

"Sir?"

"Index, now!"

"One hour, thirty minutes," he reported in, using the universal Council time format.

"I see," he lowered his binoculars and looked into the air, seeing thick grey clouds obscuring the sky above. But he already knew what was happening. All Partinax wanted was to time things perfectly. "Major, tell me. Our forces, what is their status?"

He looked at him, confused, "We're in retreat!"

"More details," Partinax asked, with greater emphasis this time as he handed his XO his binoculars.

"Well," He looked out, "Our right flank is falling back from advancing Terran Marines and Militia. Our center is folding to an armored and mechanized Terran push… Our left is stalemated, surprisingly enough. If only we had support, we could try to retake the spaceport."

"My center is folding; my right is retreating…" He activated his omni-tool and patched himself to the cloaked tanks on the ridgeline with him, "This is Partinax! Charge cannons and prepare to open fire on the advancing tank column!"

The Major turned to him, "Sir?"

"We did not come here to lose. Only to make the Terrans think that. The situation is in fact excellent. We shall attack!"

"But their scouts-"

"It makes no difference. It's time we shut the jaw on Williams' neck. He has all his pieces out for us to see. And in one fowl swoop, they will be defeated in force."

"Yes, sir!" Still confused, he turned to survey the battlefield down below. Partinax then reached over and grabbed his binoculars from him.

"Not here, Major." He pointed upwards, "Look up there. You'll see the victory come from above."

"Well, there goes the corn," said the electronics officer as their group of tanks plowed straight through a field of corn.

"Have you ever grilled some on a fusion engine? I swear, you can do almost everything with this tank," said Weinman.

"Bunker forward!" yelled Rafele from the turret.

"Having that mag gun and a hundred thousand horsepower is good with me," said the driver.

"Well let's make good use of it. Move in to engage!"

They began their assault on the last Terran-built, Turian-occupied bunker defending the town and fort. Turian infantry with portable mass accelerators brought them to bare and opened fire on the Terran armor. The tanks of Chariot behind them began zigzagging through the cornfield, leaving half a dozen lines of crushed corn stalks.

The Turians inside watched the crushed stalks to track the approaching tanks, and lead their cannon on them. They fired off another barrage, striking Chariot-4. The rounds struck its shields, then its armor. A ball of fire consumed the right side of the tank, but quickly dispersed, before its gunner took aim and fired back. Chariot-1 followed closely behind and took aim as well.

They both fired off one round after the other, each tungsten shell landing on the concrete fixture. They burrowed in, blasting apart concrete and rebar. Rafele took aim at the main room overlooking the field, changing to a molten round. He signaled for a slower speed and waited in anticipation for the computer to adjust the barrel for the truest shot. The moment it lit green, he fired off the shell.

A quick half-second is all it took to travel, initially burning through meter thick cornhusk. It then went through the opening of the bunker and into the main attack room. The round hit the back and exploded, scattering a barrage of deadly flak within the bunker room.

"That should be it from them."

"Then lets cross into the next field and continue-"

"Recon is reporting new armored vehicles!" reported the electronics officer.

"What? Where?"

He looked upward towards the hill, his goggles giving him an outside view from his position. On the top of the hill, there were a dozen of the Turians' main tank: Turian Armis.

Built with heavy kinetic shields and, what was viewed by some as a miniaturized cruiser gun, it was the most powerful tank the Turians had in their arsenal. Its main role was more along the lines of infantry support, where its shield could protect platoons in urban conditions, its hover ability made movement unhindered, though slow by default, and its gun could level Krogan bunkers with ease. In a straight up match, the Terrans' Panther could run circles of the slow, hovering beast.

But up there, looking down on them, the story was different.

"Oh crap, it's an Armis!"

They took aim and fired down below into the valley. Several kilometers were crossed from the top of the hill, over the town and at the tanks in the fields outside. It was only a fraction of a second, their rounds hitting them just as fast as they could see the barrel flash. Chariots 2, 6, and 8 were struck and destroyed instantly. Where there was once a tank, was now just a carved out hunk of metal with tracks.

"Driver, get us out of here!"

"Yes, sir!"

Chariot-1 continued zigzagging; trying to dodge the instant hit rounds of the Turians. From the cliff edge above, the Turian tanks had landed on the ground and locked rods into the earth, allowing them to fire at full force and increased speeds as Partinax watched.

Madly dodging fire, Chariot drove up the embankment and onto a risen road dividing two fields of crops. One tank above fired a round and barely missed. Hitting the ground next to them, it left a massive crater as dirt was blown straight up; it carried the tank into the air for a brief moment before it landed into the crater. The driver kept gunning it, and it climbed out and into the next field.

The electronics officer yelled into this radio, "This is Chariot-1! Apollo Command, we have met Turian main armor and experienced heavy casualties. We are falling back. Three clicks from Bao Town."

" _This is Command. All units are to fall back immediately! Code De Gaulle is in effect. Repeat…_ "

"De Gaulle?" he wondered as the message looped on all frequencies.

"I was expecting air support, not surrender!" yelled Weinman.

Rafele climbed down from the turret and turned to Weinman, "What do they mean by Code De Gaulle?"

"It's when-"

A blast hit the tank. There was a concussive force that radiated inside the tank stunning everyone. Half of the electronics shut off instantly as they all nearly collapsed from the blast force. Major Rafele, with his suit, was the most protected and recovered first.

His facemask was cracked, so he took it off, thankful he didn't actually need it anymore. His crewmates were still recovering as the tank was stuck going forward. He looked around, noticing a different kind of light inside. He looked up, suddenly in disbelief. But as he poked his head through the same hole into the turret, he was greeted by the smell of fresh air from outside and the sounds of the battle all around.

"Keelah!"

Wienman pressed his hand on his forehead to mitigate the headache. He opened his eyes, seeing just cracked Plexiglas, prompting him to pull his command goggles off. He sat up in his seat then looked over to Rafele.

"Report."

Rafele slid back down into the tank, "They took out our turret!"

"What? Oh, my head."

They were then pushed back as the tank ran up against the embankment of the same road. Weinman reached over past the shell-shocked driver and shut down the engine. Chariot stopped at the very edge, balancing on its tracks. Then it fell forward and slid into the same crater they passed by just a minute ago.

Rafele looked out, seeing a Turian shuttle pass by from above. He helped Weinman out his seat and over to the platform, where they both poked their heads out. Two more shuttles came by and took position around the tank as a squad of troops rushed off to surround the tank. Weinman called to the others out through the two top hatches in the front for all of them to be seen.

Around, the Turians took aim. Still debilitated from the hit, they raised their hands in surrender.

"Is this Code De Gaulle, sir?"

He shrugged his shoulders, "Not exactly…"

* * *

 **Warsaw-1**

"This is Warsaw-3, we have visual on the Armis tanks."

A retreating wing of fighters passed by the battlefield at the foot of the hill. They spotted the Turians at the edge of a cliff looking down on the battlefield. From there, the Armis made themselves perfectly positioned anti-tank guns, and the Terran armor companies were being torn apart trying to retreat outside their range.

"Warsaw-1, our armor won't make it out of that kill zone."

"Roger. Let's cover our lads below."

The wing veered off and attempted to position themselves for a quick run along the edge of the fort. Two outer fighters broke off to run a screen and cover the approach of the other three.

"Warsaw-1, guns, guns, guns!"

"Contact above! Break off, break off!"

Right before the run, they broke off as several wings of Turian fighters from orbit rush dove right for them. Even from a distance, they fired off a near wall of lasers that splintered the Terrans, destroying Warsaw-2 as Warsaw-1 tried to maneuver through the ambush. He flew down low to the ground, after burners at full. Then, after evading them for a brief moment, he pitched back and shot straight up to meet them. There was no chance to retreat now; he had to fight, and hopefully try to scurry away in the chaos.

He immediately was met by another wave of Turian fighters rushing down from orbit. They stayed in formation and fired down as a mix of Guardian laser and mass accelerator rounds rained down around him, but he quickly rolled to the side and fired back with his phaser plasma cannons at a wide angle. Though the Turians' barrier held, it did the job in scattering the air wing.

Instead of pursuing, he veered off and began another descent before they could come around and attack again. His Lightning's ramjet took in a massive gulp of air, energizing the fusion reactor inside, before he shut them and went full thruster instead, giving him additional speed. Managing to outrun the swarm securing the fort, he stayed low to the ground as he made his way to a pre-arranged Code De Gaulle rendezvous point.

When he looked up from his cockpit, he quickly realized why General Williams called it into effect.

* * *

 **Guardian Angel - Gaberial**

"Our escorts are gone!"

"Get the chain guns online. We'll fight our way out of this!"

Commander Trinton and his gunship, _Gabriel_ , began a dive to avoid several Turian fighters that where already chasing him. Their shield held, and he kept banking hard, turning to give each side an aiming view of the fighters behind them. Each time he turned, the on board dumb AI took aim at the Turians and fired the broadside chain guns at them. With precision, each wide turn scored a kill by the guns, but cost them valuable speed. Engaging his tail only managed to attract more pressure to the one aircraft the Terrans' had that offered as much ground firepower as a frigate.

"Ten more fighters. Shields at 30%!" yelled his lieutenant in the weapons' bay.

"Get everyone buckled in! And keep the chain guns online! Now!"

They raced for a seat as Trinton got one last look of his environment. With about a dozen fighters behind him, and his shields failing, he needed to do something desperate.

He pitched slowly forward and began shutting off his outer engines, and kept pouring in helium gas. The gas dirtied and trailed behind him. He ignited them, and then disengaged in a controlled burst, making the ramjets 'shutter'. With his descent and trailing gas, the Turians mistook it as a successful hit on his engines, though they continued pursuit nonetheless.

Here, Trinton began his most daring maneuver for an aircraft like the Guardian Angel. He banked a hard left and began to spin as he seemingly fell from the sky. The Turians didn't change direction and kept firing. With the mad spin on his side, falling downwards, he fought through the high Gs and reengaged the guns.

Immediately, the seemingly damaged gunship began firing madly at the Turian pursuers. Each side took turns firing for each brief moment their side of the gunship spun towards the Turians. Even in that mad spin, their guns were deadly accurate, and the Turians were too slow to realize that. In just a few seconds, they had destroyed their pursuers, before Trinton leveled off and properly engaged his engines.

"Everyone down there good?"

The Lieutenant yelled out, after catching her breath, "A heads up would have been nice… sir. I'm surprised we didn't tear apart in that spin."

"Oh, this thing can take a couple rounds from a Panther and still fly…"

"Sir?"

"Get up here, now!"

She rushed to the lander and climbed to the cockpit. They both looked up through the viewport, ignoring the massive bleep on their radar system. The shadow of what they were looking at was a clearer indicator. Above them was a Turian cruiser. Its three-quarter kilometer hull dwarfed the tiny gun ship. Around them, more entered the atmosphere in full force.

"Hurry! Get on the collider!"

* * *

 **Turian Cruiser**

"Commander, what is that?"

On the cruiser, the commander walked over to his captain, who was looking at a visual feed of what was beneath her ship.

"One moment ma'am," He ran an identification scan on it, "This appears to be a Terran fixed-wing gunship."

"Assessment?"

"Reports from General Partinax indicate it leveled entire Marine battalions in the Terran counter attack, as well as destroyed several fighter wings."

She seemed interested as her mandibles open wide, "And to us?"

He smiled, "Our barriers are full power, and our hull is thicker than anything below. Shall I order Guardian Cannons online?"

She looked at the screen again, interested. The _Gabriel_ had begun firing collider rounds at the ship. But its barriers were un-phased to the relatively low powered rounds.

"No… increase descent speed. And have a team recover whatever gets stuck to the hull."

"Uh, yes ma'am." He radioed into the helmsman, "Increase descent speed. Half-full!"

* * *

 **Part 6:**

 **General Williams  
September 4, 2168 09:50:00 UTC**

"No damage!" yelled one of the bombardiers.

"Sir, is it-"

"Shit, it's coming right for us! Div-"

The gunship was then squashed upon the ventral hull of the cruiser. Debris fell from the sky, quickly followed by a dozen more ships and hundreds of fighters as well. The remains of the Terran Air Force scattered in the face of the Turian counter attack. On the ground and across the valley, the breakthrough of the Turian fleet cast away any doubts on their retreat; the Turians were now in full force.

Following it were hundreds of Turian shuttles, loaded with several battalions of the First Turian Army. Across the valley between the city and the fort, the finest ranger division of William's Third Army was forced into a hasty retreat. Shuttles rushed to drop off troops, air dropping Turian APCs and even additional Armis tanks to meet the Terrans head on with both speed and firepower. Tank companies were scattered and isolated, making them easy pickings for Turian armor companies. Platoons of Terran soldiers, Marines, and Militia found themselves in closed off pockets; they kept fighting their way through, hoping to reach either the forest or wild grasslands so they could dissipate and retreat, as part of the Code De Gaulle.

But the sudden turn only worked for the Turians, who could now overwhelm. With air and orbital supremacy, they could land anywhere on the colony in force. The Naval victory above had already won the battle for Shanxi. Now they were simply cementing it on the planet itself.

"General Williams."

From the tower, Williams watched with a bird's eye view of the valley as his army was decimated. Nearing the victory he knew he was never going after to begin with, Williams couldn't help but look on in horrific awe at what was happening. He knew this was going to happen. He knew this was part of his plan. A plan, a gambit, that he could organize with precision, but in the end he had no control over it besides setting off the spark to light it on fire.

He would gamble the lives of millions to save even more. He felt dread, though no remorse. He felt some comfort in the thought he wouldn't make it out either. He part was done, and it only seemed fair.

"Uh, yes?" he turned back, seemingly lost.

"We have to evacuate. The Turians will be here any minute!"

"Right…" He turned back to the viewport and kept looking out, "Evac to the designated shelter."

"And you?"

"Go, Commander. That's an order." He picked up his binoculars and kept watching.

"General!"

"Go, now!"

He relented and ordered the remaining staff out the tower and to the evac shuttles. Williams kept watching, kept waiting. Cruisers in the air, fire and destruction on the ground. Far in the distance, he could see something, brighter than the explosions all around, coming right for him. He simply noted it and stared on at the other end of the valley and fort, and then past that, to the green hills beyond.

"Let us rest our eyes, on the fleesy skies, and the cool green hills…"

* * *

 **Admiral Paris – FSS** _ **Zona Rosa**_

Paris woke up, taking in a deep breath, before he coughed out the dust that was in his lungs. He moaned in pain and tried to move around to see what had happened. Around him, the shuttle bay was completely destroyed. Collapsed steel garters and wrecked shuttles littered the bay in his immediate view. Fires were burning, eating away at the remaining air. Though he didn't need much, everyone else was dead.

He tried to turn around, only to find that debris had fallen on him. With a quick struggle, he pushed the rubble off his legs. He took relief when he felt the pain, it meant he could still use them, and though bruised, nothing was severely broken. He turned around, seeing the energy force field holding the atmosphere of the bay in. The main doors had attempted to shut, failing to close all the way, but enough to block what was outside of the ship. Back in front of him, the bulkhead door had failed to shut as well, with a steel beam jamming it open.

"Ah, fuck…"

Paris began crawling towards the bulkhead. He could only push with his legs, so he kept inching his way closer with his arms, like he was climbing with only his arms. He brushed away debris and shoved away dead bodies as he tried to make his way into the hallway where it was, more probable than not, safer than the bay.

He kept going, getting closer to the half open bulkhead. Just as he began to crawl underneath it, the barrier failed. In an instant, the atmosphere was blown out, carrying away much of the debris. They hit the doors and they gave way, blowing out and leaving the entire bay exposed to the void. But from where Paris was, the air from the rest of the ship was still being sucked out, and the evacuating air suddenly picked him up.

By sheer luck he grabbed onto a bundle of wire from a broken wall panel inside the hallway. He held on and slowly climbed up the wires. The air blew at him with unequal force, but the overall loss of pressure found him unable to take in enough air. He emptied his lungs to prevent them from exploding, and he kept climbing past the bulkhead.

He then made it inside the hallway. He held on to the wires, and then turned to the steel beam blocking the doors. Turning as blue as Turian blood, he swung about, trying to kick it free. Each kick was massively painful. But it wasn't long until it gave way and it was blown out with the air. The bulkhead immediately shut, and Paris fell to the ground, with the air re-pressurizing from what life support systems were still working.

He took in several deep breaths, and then rushed for a medical panel. He struggled to climb up to reach it, before bashing it open for morphine hypospray. With a shot to the legs, he finally sat there in some form of relief.

"Anyone?" he said with a loss of breath, not expecting anyone to answer.

But his watch activated with a comm frequency, "Admiral, you're alive?"

"Shit, thank god you're still here, Rahsan."

"Well actually, I ejected my core some time ago. But I still have some link to the ship's system."

"Well." He climbed back up to stand, "Sit rep?"

"We lost orbit control and our escort fleet was destroyed. I fried the ship's main systems and set the _Zona Rosa_ to crash into the planet to keep it from the Turians."

"We're falling into the planet?"

"You are, sir."

"Right…" He reached for his back, where he had a baton strapped to his vest. He yanked it out and turned it on, "Give me a location grid point on the ground near the colony."

Paris' watch immediately received the coordinates, "Yes, sir. But why do you need it?"

He input the numbers into his baton screen pad, "I'll beam down to the planet."

"We were not equipped with a prototype transporter."

"I have a transporter baton. And don't ask why or how."

"Fair enough. But you won't be able to use it. The ship is already burning up in the atmosphere and my signal is bad. You won't make it."

"Shit," He looked around the hallway, "Find me an evac. I prefer not to burn up in the atmosphere."

"I have… an idea," The remaining wall screens lit up, with green arrows leading the way. "Follow these screens to an alternate way out."

"Gladly."

He rushed down the hallway as fast as he could. The structure held for a while as he kept going, but as the ship began its descent through the upper atmosphere, the ship began to collapse from the heat. He dodged falling ceiling and light panels, and made it to a room near the Marine deployment section.

A thought hit him as to what it was, but when the doors opened, he ran in and was overwhelmed by the now obvious realization of what it was.

"Ah crap…"

"I re-primed the pods for launch," said the AI Rahsan.

"Please, no… No escape pods? Maybe a space suit?"

"All escape pods have either been ejected, or disable beyond repair. Better you would burn up in these pods than in your N7 armor?"

Paris felt like breaking down. But at the same time, he broke out in laughter, "Why do we even have these things?"

"This is an old ship. Command never removed them."

An explosion rocked the ship, Paris quickly grabbed onto the railing, "Fuck. Fine."

Paris got in a drop pod and pulled down the main body lock. He strapped the baton on his vest and took control of the pod, closing the door. It rattled as Rahsan remotely moved it into position. Paris tensed up, but tried just as much to loosen up for the drop. The very idea was more terrifying to him than dying.

"The ship is revolving around the planet at a rate of .30 times a minute. I will be launching you at an angle to make up for the non-vertical force."

Paris began whispering to himself, " _Gory, gory, what a hell of a way to die…"_

"Preparing to jump over colony in 10 seconds."

" _Gory, gory, what a hell of a way to die…"_

"Sir, it might be best you don't sing that song."

"Shut up… _Gory, gory, what a hell of a way to die_ …"

"And… launch!"

" _I ain't gonna jump no mor_ \- AH!"

* * *

 **General Victus and the Cadet- THV** _ **Widow's Wrath**_ **  
September 4, 2168 09:00:00 UTC**

"Come on, we need to go!"

"I'm hurrying…" Tantulas kept struggling, "Spirits."

"You're getting old, Professor."

"I was the leading scientist in the Hierarchy while you were a nestling! Oh, my back…"

The two kept running down the hall, avoiding running into anyone along the way. They made it to the shuttle bay with little effort. As the doors opened, they found a shuttle seemingly waiting to be taken.

They rushed in, where a single cadet was at his station on the control panel of the bay.

"Sir?"

"Cadet, prep the shuttle and open the doors."

He looked at him, confused as Professor Tantulas walked to the shuttle.

"Sir, we're in lockdown. I can't do that."

"I am a ranking officer of Admiral Lavatia's staff. We are in talks with Admiral Fedorian and I am to deliver him. I order you to open the doors, now!"

The cadet panicked, worried, and slowly becoming suspicious, "Let me confirm with the CI-"

"No!" Victus raised his pistol at him. But the cadet quickly unfurled his rifle in response, "Open the door, now!"

"No, sir! I can't, I won't do that."

"What is the meaning of this!"

"What of you? That is a high value prisoner, and we are giving him to the one man that could possibly stop us? No, I know what's going on."

"Don't do anything foolish! We are on the verge of civil war! As soldiers of the Hierarchy, we must stop it!"

"Stop it?" The cadet then laughed at him, "The Hierarchy is useless! That's why we have Primarch Arterius and the Nation!"

"What?"

"You think most of us are here just because our commanding officer joined the Nation? We chose to follow them! The Hierarchy did nothing to stop the human blight. They conned their way onto that useless council. They assert their ways over ours! And the very moment they arrived… the very moment…"

Victus noticed he began to break a bit, "What is it?"

"Before Illium. Before Fedorian's capture over Khar'shan. Before the _Destiny Ascension_ … the _Fedora_ and the _Minica._ "

"What?"

"How convenient you forget. How everyone forgot! Ten minutes into First Contact, and they destroyed two cruisers with impunity! A… A-A thousand lives were lost, and everyone dismissed it. _An error in First Contact_!"

"Now, wait. Listen…"

"No!" He talons trembled and so did his rifle. He was being emotional, and it only made him more dangerous, "I lost my siblings on those ships. No one cared. Not the Hierarchy or the Federation. The Federation lied to us. The Hierarchy betrayed us! Now… now it's time to strike back. Our… our V-Vendetta!"

"Now listen to me, okay? This won't be some short conflict. Some tactical strike on a base in the Terminus. This is now a war. A war that will kill millions! We are Turians. We must be united, not by some political idea or the markings on our faces, but by blood. The Terrans will come for us all! We can only survive united!"

"Then join us!" he yelled back, "Only Primarch Arterius knows what to do! Join us and we can win this war!" He held his rifle at him, "Put the professor back. This can be our secret!"

"I can't do that," Victus tightened his grip, "I won't."

"Please, don't do this."

"I'm asking for the same. Let us walk."

"I-I'm… I'm sorry."

He lowered his weapon. Victus did the same. The cadet then immediately raised his again, aimed right for Victus. There was a gunshot, followed immediately by alarms from the gunfire sound. Victus stood there. He dropped his pistol. The cadet stood there as well. A spot of blue appeared on his forehead, and he dropped onto the console and the to the floor. The doors opened.

Victus turned around. At the shuttle's door, Tantulas stood with his rifle.

"I've still got it!"

"You… you shot him!"

"He was going to shoot you for rescuing me. A thank you would be appreciated, General."

"You didn't have to shoot him!" he yelled at him.

Tantulas got down, "What the hell is this?"

Victus turned away, "He didn't have to die."

"Yes he did!" He grabbed Victus, "Let me tell you something. What you told me back there, in my cell, about this war that Arterius is waging. You're right. It will kill millions. He will lose millions. But this idea you can stop a civil war?

"Son, listen up. You failed. You failed the moment you started. This war has begun. The moment Arterius declared his intent, he divided the Hierarchy in a way even the colonies millennia ago couldn't. This damn program he has. You want to know something? Its fucking Terran! The implications goes farther then any of us could dare imagine. Now get in that shuttle, General. We still have a job to do. And if we are successful. If we are, spirits damn us lucky! Maybe… just maybe, only millions will die. Because if Arterius wanted to…" He snapped his talons, "Billions would die, Turian and Human."

They could hear the sound of Marines rushing to the bay. Tantulas took aim at the door, "Come on. We have to leave."

* * *

 **Admiral Paris – Drop Pod**

"Activating Inertia Dampeners."

"AH! Ugh, why didn't you turn them on earlier?"

"They are old warp coil based systems. You need high G-Force to activate them."

Paris' pod shot down through the atmosphere. He leveled off into a straight path, allowing for a minimal amount of friction as he descended.

He looked up, seeing the screen with visuals of what was above him. He saw as the ship continued falling. Before it left his view, there was another explosion.

"Rahsan?"

"The antimatter tanks failed… Wait, course change."

"Change?"

"I recalculated the crash point of the ship. It was set originally to crash in a continent far from the colony, as procedure. But the explosion changed its course."

"Why am I not going to like you say next?"

"The ship is falling at a faster rate. It will crash in one minute and five seconds."

Paris sighed and guessed what would follow, "And it will complete rotation in?"

"In… one minute exact. Exact location, unknown."

"Oh, how lovely-"

A piece of debris hit the pod. It began to spin wildly as it fell, creating a massive amount of friction in the process. Paris was still secure inside with the dampeners, thought he could feel what was clearly high G force in a normal environment.

"Rahsan?!"

"The pod was hit by falling debris… Warning, dampeners will fail in-"

Paris yelled out, "If they fail, I'm dead!"

"G-Force rating is only at 7.5. I can conduct repairs. But I must take them offline."

"Do it…" He yelled out in utter anger, "God damn you Will- AH!"

Paris was immediately pinned to his pod as it cartwheeled going straight down. He gripped the railings and held on, trying to withstand the high Gs as his pod spun out of control towards the ground.

"When you isolate the spinning, this is an amazing sight!"

"Sssshhhhhuuuutttt uuuupppp!"

After a minute of unending G force at nearly every angle on his body, the inertia dampeners reactivated. Paris blacked out for a moment, but Rahsan released a medicated gas into the pod to wake him back up.

"Please… no more."

"I have fixed the dampeners, but maneuvering thrusters have failed. You are off course from my intended location."

"Oh god…" He kept hammering his head, "Where am I going to go land then?"

"Well…"

The pod then crashed through the roof of the traffic tower of the spaceport. It burst through the ceiling and crushed several consoles before burrowing in and stopping a good meter into the floor.

"Welcome to Lee Spaceport. My core has been retrieved by the Militia. I'll talk to you soon."

Paris lay there; his eyes wide open at the painful landing that no inertia dampener could possibly cancel out. He exhaled then shook his head. He lifted his restraints off, but it broke off from the pod altogether. He threw it aside and reached for a sidearm and belt kit. He tried to sit up and open the pod doors, but it wouldn't open. Several kicks to the door worked and he pried it open.

He stood up and then grabbed ahold of the sides to stand. He climbed out of the pod and looked around, noticing the empty control room.

"What the… what the hell!"

He noticed General Williams standing at the corner, looking out the window to the valley. Paris took the pistol and slowly approached him, fully loaded. But Williams seemingly didn't notice and Paris wondered why. He turned his head, realizing why as he yelled out in horror,

"We have to get out of here!"

Williams remained silent, simply looking on.

"Ah Christ damn it!"

He holstered his pistol and made a sprint towards Williams. Outside, the _Zona Rosa_ was only a dozen seconds away from crashing straight through the main terminal of the spaceport. He kept running, calling out to Williams, but he stood still. With no time to think about his next action, he tackled Williams, and crashed through the window with him in his grip.

Quickly plummeting to the ground, Paris pulled out his baton. Williams finally acknowledged him, wondering what Paris was doing. With a quick activation, a stream of lights quickly engulfed the two mid fall. The shroud of energy followed their drop and it hit the ground and dissipated, with nothing to be found.

The _Zona Rosa_ then crashed into the spaceport. It tore through the runway, then straight through the main terminal, taking the building and traffic tower out with it as the half kilometer ship left a trail of wreckage in the process.

Above, a Turian frigate held position above it as shuttles deployed to investigate.

* * *

 **Part 7:**

 **Harper – Outside Town of Bao  
Three Hours since Zero Hour  
** **September 4, 2168 10:00:00 UTC**

Harper awoke. He looked around the golden wheat field. Ahead of him was his destroyed Humvee. The sound of Turian shuttles filled the air. A quick look up revealed a Turian cruiser hovering over him, surrounded by wings of Turian fighters. As he tried to sit up, a squad of Turians rushed the field and surrounded him, rifles raised.

They signaled him to get up slowly, and he did just that. He noticed his rifle on the ground near him, thinking there was other equipment he could use to get the upper hand on the squad. He got up, waiting to see their next action before he made his own.

There was a gunshot and a soldier dropped dead. As he fell, Harper dove forward and grabbed his rifle. He rolled back and opened fire, quickly gunning them down with marksman precision. He turned back to see where that initial gunshot came from.

"Harper!"

He turned about, hearing Hislop's shout. He ran through the tall wheat field, rifle raised, to support his friend. He made his way to where Hislop landed, rushing to his back as they faced off against a platoon of soldiers with a shuttle hovering above them in support.

"This didn't start off well."

"I know. First, we get blown off the road, then a platoon of soldiers is about to shoot us up."

" _Arma tua stillabunt!"_ yelled one of the Turians.

"Translators out as well," said Hislop, "Just like that bar fight back in Oakland."

"I've got more tricks to win this one too, Ben. Here's the plan. On three, duck and cover your eyes. I'll throw up a flash bang, then we take them out."

"On you then."

" _Three!"_

Hislop ducked as Harper turned to see who said that. A flash bang went off over their heads, blinding him and the Turians. As they all stumbled back, Hislop opened fire, gunning down the Turians on his side, but Harper was blindsided by the unexpected diversion. A Turian in front of him recovered fast and charged at him, but Harper's training gave him the edge to lock arms with him even when blinded.

He regained his sight and kicked the Turian off before shooting him. In a quick rush, he took aim and fired a burst of rounds with his Reegar, swapping out targets in quick succession. The shuttle above then backed off and a gunner on its side opened fire down below, leaving a trail of shot up dirt as it quickly approached them.

From within the field, a second charge came into the shuttle at a curved toss from beneath it. It exploded, taking out the shuttle. It spun out of control, then dropped straight into the ground. Both of them turned around, trying to find out who or what did that.

"Do the Berets or Section have some fancy way to shoot down shuttles?"

" _No, but the FIA prefers using tried and true munitions!"_

They both looked over at the burnt shuttle. Form the wheat stalks between them, someone stood up. She wore standard Terran black ops armor, and wielded an AR-25, with a sniper rifle on her back. Hislop looked in confusion, but Harper raised his rifle at her as she walked closer to them.

She raised her hands and rifle up as she approached, giggling a bit. " _Put down the rifle, Jack, you might hurt someone with it._ "

Harper then recognized the voice, the shock caused him to lower his rifle.

"My God. Eva?"

She holstered her rifle and took off her helmet, unfurling her blonde hair.

"Good thing I got here when I did…" Another cruiser flew by over them, more shuttles flying under it, "Come on. We need to get out of this battle!"

* * *

 **Terran Wikipedia**

(By the Authority of the Federal Communications Committee, this document has been doctored in accordance to the 'Orwellian Freedom Act' to ensure non-biased and informative information for the Terran People.)

 **Great Revival**

 **Section 2: The Great Election of 2128**

In 2128, the first election was held to fill the position of President of the United Terran Federation. The two main candidates to emerge were former UE Secretary General Thomas Anderson, a Terran Nationalist, and former European Chancellor Bernard Diet, a Terra Firmist. Even before the end of the election, the entire proceeding proved highly divisive for the new nation. As the first main election cycle, the entire congress was up for election and there was the election for the formation of the Senate. Between 2125 and 2128, the Congress of the Federation was a unicameral entity.

At this time, the Federation had in total six states and a total population of 17 billion. This election would be an important marker for the colonies' impact on politics. With 10 billion on Earth, the other 7 billion represented the massive baby boom of the early 22nd century and were significantly young in comparison to those on Earth. While Earth and the state of United Sol would dominate the House of Representatives with an even divide among the Nationalists and Firmists, the colonies would rule the senate with a mix of smaller parties. Most of these would later integrate later to form the modern Unionist Party.

In the election for the first presidency, both Anderson and Diet were Earth-centric in policy; this created isolation with the colonial voters. Because of Anderson's turn-face support for the Federation years earlier, Diet held strong support among Earth voters and initially edged out Anderson in the polls. Needing the support of the colonies to give him the combined popular and electoral votes needed for a win, Anderson switched to a platform on colonial expansion and space worthy ideas. He also supported the proposal to increase the federalization of the government to promote colonial state rights.

This accumulated Anderson's 'Grand Fleet' campaign. Appealing to colonists and space advocates on Earth, it was the first real political push to further integrate the space fleets of the old nations and reform them into a united fleet for exploration and defense. Many of his proposals would be carried over into the Militarization Bill of 2135. Immediately, this idea was bashed by Diet and the Earth-centric bloc of the Firmist and Nationalist parties. It was called out as an overexpansion of the united government and an expenditure the young nation could not afford. Equally so, many anti-government activists feared that having this fleet would give the Federation a military might greater than all nation-states combined, and could be used with horrific consequences.

This however proved to be the edge that Anderson needed. In the September election, he divided the votes on Earth, and then won the vast majority of the colonies, with an approximate total of 9 billion to Diet's 6 billion, and the electoral college of 10-7. Both the popular and electoral vote was needed to claim the Presidency. With this, Anderson became the First President of the United Terran Federation, with Founder Hung Chen Lin serving as Vice President.

By dividing the Earth vote, Anderson inadvertently caused a split among the Firmists, where a decent amount supported Anderson, while isolating a sizable number of Nationalists. This would weaken both parties and anger many radicals; this eventually led to the London Terrorist Attack that would kill off its old Firmist leadership and open to a new era under Bishop, who exploited the weakening of the Nationalists, who faced splinters in the new Unionist Party.

The election showed the push of political influence away from Earth. The colonies gave Anderson the election, and his promise of greater federalization and the Naval expansion would showcase the early, but now clear, position and role the colonies had in the federal government. While this was championed as an evolutionary change of the government to being truly space faring, many on the home world would see this as the 'Colonial Betrayal' by their fellow star-bound humans, and further the divide between Earth and her colonies.

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/

And that was Part Three of the Battle of Shanxi!

Thank you everyone for reading! Apologies for that several month long delay. School simply took prerogative. Along with that, this had proven to be the most grinding writing I have done for this story. I think its fair for me to say my main writing focus isn't on physical battles or such. I could only reason my story needed a 'Battle of Shanxi' within this verse. Though at the same time, it is a usual event in many other ME Fanfics and I debated whether to go through with it in the detail I wrote it as. That required a massive rewrite for such an event, one that in my drafts was glossed aside as an afterthought. It became a massive three-parter chapter, so I released it all in one go to make up for the delay, and move on ahead to the next part of the story. But I hope you all enjoyed the chapters and story to this point. Now the Great Autumn War shall begin in earnest! (And the next update shall hopefully be much sooner!)

*I usually don't point out my references, but in Ch 32, the song was derived from _Farewell to Nova Scotia_.  
I, uh, been playing a lot of Kaiserreich lately...  
Oh, and as both a shout out to the HoI4 mod and a hint of whats coming up later:

 _Down with the Traitors, and Up with the Stars!_

So, as always, thanks for reading and please feel free to review and comment.  
I welcome all constructive comments, for I always aim to improve my writing!  
If you got any questions, always feel free to add it to a review, or PM me.  
I be glad to answer!

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

* * *

Posted on January 29, 2018 - Beta-read by MoonSword1994


	35. 34: Casus Belli

**Chapter Thirty-Four: Casus Belli!**

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/

Hey Everyone!

Thanks for tuning in for Chapter 34  
and the Second Year Anniversary of the _Terran Gambit._

Lets get straight to it, shall we?

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

* * *

 _People of the galaxy, of the Grand Imperial Hierarchy, the Citadel Council and the decadent . . . "United" Terran Federation. I am Primarch Desolas Arterius, leader of the Turian Nation! Today, as the Federation and their pitiful leader Jonathan Bowman so woefully announced, I have rallied the Turian Military and launched a full assault into the Federation itself!_

 _Many of you in the galaxy have come to admire . . . Or fear these humans. They have forced the image of their supposed superiority onto you. They set up this facade they are invincible, that they cannot be stopped, that they are your 'liberators' and 'protectors.' They call themselves 'Terrans' to create this idea that they are welcoming all life to join them!_

 _People! They are not your liberators, your protectors, your fellow 'Terran.' They are your conquerors, your destroyers, they see you as slaves to their 'Terran Race'!_

 _Now you ask, as intelligent sentient people, what proof do I have to my claim? Allow me to show you all! To those who have come to fear their military, which for a nation that preached peace and diplomacy has used to no unending degree, I shall show you that they are not gods, but…as they say, merely human._

 _Here is vid footage, taken only hours ago, of the Turian fleet, the tried and true military that has defended the galaxy for over a millennium, engaging the Terran Second Fleet, the very one that conquered the Batarians. Through our true superior training and tactics, we crushed their advance force of nearly four thousand ships. You can see as the very type of ship that destroyed the Council Destiny Ascension are themselves killed by our dreadnoughts. So let that be the proof that these Terrans are not invincible. That they can be stopped . . ._

 _But why fight them, you ask? Their fleets guard council space, their bailout saved the Credit, they saved Illium from pirates. But that last statement… That they saved Illium, at just the same time the council was at their weakest when they had happened to demanded a seat on the Council just the day before._

… _It was no coincidence. It was no stroke of luck that the Terrans 'earned' their seat for saving Illium and the economy, for being positioned as your new guardians!_

 _Here… Here is the proof. That these humans! And the rejects of the galaxy they gathered to call themselves Terrans, are nothing but liars and thieves…_

 _ **The first part of Primarch Desolas Arterius's speech to the entire galaxy on the 'Crimes and Actions' of the United Terran Federation – Date Stamp: September 4, 2168 – 10:00:00 UTC**_

* * *

 **Part 1:**

 **Bowman and Staff – FSS Munich  
The First Day of the Turian Vendetta  
September 4, 2168 – 11:00:00 UTC**

" _It is a disaster! The Williams Defense Line has collapsed! Unofficial reports indicate heavy losses of the scattered Second and Fourth Fleet. The 'Turian Nation's victory, complete and absolute."_

…

" _Desolas Arterius has hijacked Hierarchy forces! The man formed his own damn nation!"_

" _Goddess, who would have thought the Turians of all races could splinter like this?"_

…

"… _With reports now coming in on the disastrous defeat of the Battle of Shanxi. Though Arcturus and the military had yet to hold any formal briefing, casualties are feared to already be in the several hundreds of thousands…"_

…

" _And we are to expect this blackout was of Primarch Arterius' doing? How can we be so sure this isn't some massive, and poorly disguise, Turian black op operation to throw supposed Turian 'Nation rebels' at us?"_

" _How come the Federation did not see this coming? Why did Bowman spend hours doing nothing during the blackout? And what Arterius have said? Did they orchestrate the Raid on Illium?"_

" _Did they also delete all our pornography as well? Those damn prune pyjak bastards!"_

" _Ours is better!"_

…

" _Update from Illium: The Third Fleet is in full force across the planet as protests in all major cities erupt into riots. Terran citizens have been advised to evacuate as Army and Marines are deployed in full force."_

…

" _More news from Hierarchy space indicate a near collapse of the main government as Hierarchy military forces split between the Primarch Arterius's Nationalist and Admiral Fedorian's Loyalist. The fear that many had dread may now come true: Turian Civil War."_

…

" _The late half of Citadel Markets opened today, immediately dropping to record lows and wiping away more than a year's worth of recovery and gains since Human First Contact. Reports are now coming in that the Doge of Irune has called for the closure of all Volus-based exchanges and banks to stem the massive selling and bank runs now occurring."_

…

" _The Terrans have only themselves to blame. They played with the working of the galaxy with total disregard, and this is the consequence. Once the Council confirms the proof Primarch Arterius has shown us, all the galaxy will join in their vendetta!"_

…

" _I promise you. Humanity and Terra faced greater threats. This vendetta will die. I can just tell, the galaxy will stand back and watch us crumble. But we will survive, we will be resilient. And we will know who our true friends and enemies are in the end. Today, we will fight the vendetta. Tomorrow, the galaxy will face our scourge!"_

"Christ, Jason. It's a damn disaster!"

In a small meeting room on the _Munich_ was Secretary of State Kevin Whyte and Secretary of Defense Jason Montgomery. They kept changing the channel for different news reports on the situation. The Citadel markets were in turmoil over war between the Turian rebels and the Terrans. Once the markets opened in Terran space tomorrow, it would only be worse. People were in shock of the Turian Vendetta, and the conspiracy that the Terrans caused the Raid on Illium. Blame was being tossed all around in Federation and Council space. And they both knew it would only get worse from here.

"I know. Roland loss three thousand ships over Shanxi. I haven't heard such naval losses since that madman Admiral Ackerman went rogue with the First Fleet during the Revival!"

"And this mad plan. Bowman ordered the raid on Illium; What kind of shit is this?" He turned off the screen, "The entire diplomatic corps is facing pressure from every damn race we have so much as an envoy with. No wonder Kennedy left this job..."

The doors across the room slid open. They turned to see as President Bowman walk in.

"Mr. President!"

"Sit."

As he walked over to sit down at the other end of the table, the _Munich_ made the jump on an Arcturus relay. In an instant, the ship emerged into the gassy nebula. A holographic GUI appeared on the panorama viewport, with a locked sight on the Citadel that was deep within the nebula.

"Report, now!"

Whyte answered first as they sat down, "Goyle is in the process of arranging an audience with the whole Council?"

"What!" He slammed his fist on the table, "People are complaining about us, when I, the fucking leader of the invaded country, can't get an audience with the Council, to which we have a damn seat on!"

"Sir, I must ask. Our response to both the Hierarchy Comm blackout was slow in itself."

Montgomery responded, "That's just but a small consequence to what happened. We have numerous intelligence posts in Hierarchy space. Before the blackout, there was a message for a sit down with some military officers. But it was cut off and no additional information came in. We initially dismissed it as a regular meeting among some officers."

"Green lights, Kevin," Bowman sat up, "Our entire intelligence network gave no warning that several thousand ships and an Army were on the move. Not only are we in an extremely compromising position, but to be blind like this is a massive PR disaster for our intelligence community."

"Agreed. But from what I been informed, the Turians are in no better position. This Primarch Arterius has gone rogue with a third the Hierarchy Navy, a quarter of their colonies, and many elite officers. Palaven is silent, but Admiral Fedorian has apparently rallying forces to stop them," said Whyte.

"Bowman, this can be useful. From a tactical standpoint, we have no idea real idea of what new weapons the 'Nation' had that took out our forces," said Montgomery, "Pressuring the Turians to aid us would not only help in stopping them but put pressure on the rebels also. I doubt they would want to face a full civil war, and a two front one at that."

Whyte added on, "And it would be a political tool. A unified Terran/Turian strike force would distract public attention from this Illium conspiracy that is spreading."

Bowman nodded in agreement, staring at the table in thought. Hearing the same announcement Desolas made to the galaxy, he knew only trouble would follow. Hearing his words, he feared just how severely the most guarded secrets were breached. The only man remotely able to help him, to his dismay, was now facing the consequences of it on the front line.

"Agreed," He stood up, prompting the other two do so also, "We are facing war and a conspiracy that could unravel the Federation. If we don't find a way to stop them and dispel this mere myth, then we are finished."

"Yes, Mr. President!"

"Then let's go. Whyte, press our influence on the media. Any mention of Illium will be met with complete denial. Spin us back as the victims, shove Shanxi in their faces, and make public we stand ready to aid the Turians in their civil war. We'll force them onto the same boat; whether float or sink."

"Immediately sir." Whyte walked off right after to get in touch with the diplomatic corp.

"Montgomery, put as much manpower as needed. Call in every expert we have. Find out what that program the rebels have is and how to stop it."

"Yes, sir."

"And prepare Admiral Muhamad and the head researcher from Synthetic Insight. If it comes down to it, I intend to make a stand on Arcturus. If the Turians think they can cheat their way into cornering the Federation, then I don't intend to fight fair either."

"Yes, sir. I'll have everything arranged immediately."

His Secretary of Defense left as well to communicate back home. Seeing the room empty, Bowman sat down. He laid his head back and gripped his forehead in shock of the situation. Just from the immediate consequence of what was happening, he neither saw or was ready. Too much had already been lost, and he could only hope to save some face because of it. Better this secret than the others. The fact this was happening just days before the main election was a pressing manner on its own, but one he simply ignored to deal with what's on hand.

"President Bowman." His comm went off.

He responded, "Yes?"

"A shuttle from the Citadel is requesting to dock. It's Ambassador Udina."

"He couldn't wait?" He stood back up, "Let him board. But continued course to the Citadel."

"Yes, sir. The Fifth Fleet has already taken escort formation around us."

* * *

 **Five Minutes later**

"Recall the fleets!"

"Absolutely not!"

The President and the Terran ambassador continued down the hallway, followed by their security detail. The ship slowly came to a stop at its designated docking port.

"What do you mean?" said Udina, "We are facing a full invasion! The Second Fleet is in disarray, and don't think I didn't know. I got the reports; The Fourth is spread thin between five clusters connecting to Shanxi, and the Turians are driving them out in just the same manner as they did Roland's."

They rounded a corner, "If I unilaterally withdraw even one fleet, we would comprise our position on the galactic stage!"

"Our position is compromised. That damn false recording of you ordering a flag operation on Illium had killed our clout. Race after race is turning their back on us."

Bowman yelled out, "But we have our seat on the damn Council! And we can damn well use it to force cooperation. They would have to be crazy to believe we actually orchestrated this 'Damsel.'"

A secret service agent turned to Bowman, "Sir, Councilor Goyle has messaged us that we can now proceed to the Council Chamber."

"Good. I intend to get that audience whether they want to see me or not."

"The Council… Yes," Udina checked his watch, then turned to Bowman, "We can make them help us!"

"That is why I am here."

"No, not that. Their militaries are useless! We can petition them to let us withdraw our fleets. If they say yes, we can 'legally' take back our ships and have the full might of the Federation on these Turians."

"Maybe…"

They arrived at their destination, a heavily guarded cargo bay. Bowman signaled his guards to begin preparation.

Udina looked around, "What are we doing here? The airlock is down the hall."

"We are heading straight to the point."

A hull of a cargo crate was lifted away in front of them, revealing the contents inside it. There, there was a matter-energy transporter. The military was already beginning major installation of the device across the military. Though a top secret, many top agents, and government officials have been made aware of its existence.

"What the hell…"

Bowman walked onto the pad, "Get on the pad, Udina."

"What do you mean? We're gonna teleport in front of them?!"

"Damn straight! We'll make clear exactly who the hell they are dealing with."

* * *

 **Part 2:**

 **Bowman and The Council – Citadel Chambers  
September 4, 2168 – 11:14:00 UTC  
One minute earlier…**

Sparatus slammed his podium with his fist, pointing at Goyle to his far left. Below in the Chamber, there was already an assortment of different ambassadors from the numerous races watching. Sparatus was set to make a show of this, "I demand we have her and the damn Terrans thrown off the Council!"

"For the last time. The 'evidence' that Arterius presented is entirely fake! The Federation played no role in the attack of Illium," said Goyle, staring down Sparatus. If there was only one reason why none of the other races had spoken out, its because they still didn't want to incur the wrath of Councilor Goyle.

"While it is clear Primarch Arterius's actions to this evidence is very rash, what proof do the Terrans have of this being fake?" asked Tevos. "Desolas makes a good argument in his message, and the additional information he sent to the Council and the Hierarchy has an extended audio file of the discussion detailing the plan to attack Illium."

"I knew those AIs were up to no good. Stealing billions from our banks so they can hire pirates to crash our entire economy. I warned you all this could happen," said Sparatus.

"All you did was force our fleets to hold position while Illium was attacked," commented Nerval, "Our fleet could have easily held back the raiders."

Goyle slammed her fist on the podium, "Damn it, Sparatus. That madman is trying to divide the Council while he invades Federation territory. That audio file is fake! Does the Council believe any piece of evidence it comes across?"

Nerval thought for a moment on what to say and add to the conversation. He then spoke, "We should continue to examine the audio files. Best be sure whether the voiceprint is real or not, as well as these Terran documents provided. Councilor Goyle, is your president on his way?"

"Yes, in about…" She activated her console, custom fitted with a Terran computer, "Five seconds."

Sparatus burst out in a fit, "Five seconds? What an outrageous ETA."

"Yes," said Nerval, "unless…"

Two energy ribbons appeared, circling two separate points a few meters apart. More appeared at each spot in rapid succession, forming an energy cylinder at the two spots. Behind, two figures materialize, cast a dark shadow on the energy flies created by the ribbons. Quickly, the ribbons disappeared and left the two people behind in its wake. Just about everyone below took a step back shock.

"President Bowman, Ambassador Udina. I didn't expect you to appear in such fashion," said Nerval. He was a bit surprised at the method of arrival; not of its manner, but its usage given the circumstance.

Udina whispered to him, "He's aware of our transporters?"

"In short, yes," he whispered back.

Neither Nerval or Goyle seemed surprised by the transporter. Councilor Tevos maintained her outwardly calm appearance but was taken aback by the science fiction machine. Sparatus, to his credit, had crouched behind his podium during the entire event. But he quickly stood back up in an appearance of strength.

"What in the spirits was that?!"

Bowman yelled out loud for all to hear, "That, Councilor, is but a demonstration. It is clear that madmen are trying to discredit and disprove our advantageous standing. I want to make clear before we begin, just as I appeared from thin air, that you all simply don't know our resolve and capability!"

"Your point has been well proven, Mr. President," replied Tevos.

"But that only draws more suspicion," said Sparatus as he stared him down, "The rogue Primarch Desolas Arterius has accused you of a massive conspiracy of planning and launching the Raid of Illium!"

"These accusations are ridiculous. We could not do so..."

Nerval spoke out, "But these documents provided have clear Terran authentication, just like those we knew from other leaked documents."

Goyle replied, "They can easily be fake, our authentication methods are no different from everyone else."

Sparatus remarked, "You humans keep showing off capabilities beyond imagination. If that man can appear from thin air, why couldn't he have done this as well!?"

"That attack was on an enormous scale!" yelled Goyle, "How can we, after one month of contact with the galaxy, organize an event with such detail and success?"

"I am not here to discuss this!" Bowman took control of the conversation, "My official position is clear. Arterius' 'proof' is false, and we do not need to justify our stance."

"Our president presence here is quite clear," said Udina, "Arterius has rallied Hierarchy forces to attack us! His actions are unprovoked and constitute, by both the Council Convention and our own, as a war crime."

"And to what end are you here for exactly?" asked Nerval.

Bowman activated his watch, bringing up a section of the binding treaty of the Council. He read out loud for everyone to hear. He didn't expect anything from it but wanted the records to indicate his actions. "Under Article 20, as a standing member of the Citadel Council, and under Article 78, as a seat holder of the Council itself, I invoke the mutual defense clause and request full Council military intervention to aid in stopping the Turian Nation's attack on Federation space!"

There was no doubt that Bowman was going to bring that up. No one outside had any idea what was going on. With the Terrans just as well out of the loop, Bowman would be prudent in making use of all official channels for help, before having to resort to another method. The chamber was silent, for those inside wanted to know what they would do. They had already set precedence in the past to do something or nothing. But their action would certainly set precedence for all future actions.

"As Terran Councilor, I vote in favor of Council Intervention," said Goyle to start the process.

"I will not let the Council and every race in it get dragged into this war. I vote no!" said Sparatus.

Both sides turned to Tevos to respond with her vote. In nearly every vote for something even slightly splitting between Turian and Terran agenda, her vote was the one to pass the motion, siding with Nerval and whoever he had sided with, or tie and kill it. Her vote nearly always differed from Nerval to do so. But this time, her decision didn't matter.

"I vote against moving the Council into this war," said Nerval, beating her to the response.

The Salarian was the closest ally Councilor Goyle had. As he neared the end of his life, he received criticism is siding with the Terrans in several votes. Equally so, he made his choice opposite to Goyle's, making clear her only ally wasn't unconditional. Just as then and right there at that moment, he reminded her and the Terrans his vote was important to them, and the help that came with it probably won't be there in the coming month.

"Councilor Nerval?" asked Tevos.

"It would be irresponsible to move to immediate Council intervention of such magnitude. Primarch Arterius has demonstrated his capability of fighting and winning against the Terran Navy. If your ships, which has already shown their superiority over the general Council fleet, can't win. Then throwing more ships would just be a waste with no end!"

Goyle spoke out, "We are being attacked! We expect aid and the full backing of the Council!"

"Backing, yes. But not in lives. Not when a madman can hack both of our systems and broadcast a terrorist call for war and death!"

"No matter," Sparatus said, "Two is enough to kill this motion. The Council will not divert unified military forces."

"What madness is this?" Bowman yelled at them, "We are being abandoned in our time of need!?"

"If we are to stand alone, we will still stand with our full might," Goyle quickly introduced a new resolution, submitting this time a formal documentation for the other three Councilors to vote on. She had prepared it just for this event, "We will withdraw our fleets under Council control!"

Sparatus burst out, "You can't do that! Your Third Fleet alone is defending the entire stretch of the Council border with the Terminus Systems. With Hierarchy fleets in disarray, our border will be left open!"

"Our defense is of greater priority. Besides…" She looked at him from across the balcony and gave a smug smile, "If you really feel more inclined to believe Primarch Arterius' information, then be well aware. His attack constitutes a _Hierarchy_ act of war against us."

He slammed his podium in frustration, "That man is a traitor. His actions are equally an attack on us! But we will not discount what he said. If they are true, there will be hell to pay!"

Nerval turned to Goyle next to him, "For your sake, and in the long run, ours as well, I hope it isn't true."

"They are not," she said, looking at her associate in the eye.

Udina spoke out. President Bow was willing to let this conversation play out and wait for the right time to enter. He couldn't do anything else. Udina wanted his agenda now. The Terran position grew more compromised by the second.

"Return our fleets then! If Terra must stand alone, so be it!"

The council quickly prepared to vote on that as well. But as that happened, Sparatus spoke out as well. Even through the Turian Nation seemly posses the means to fighting the Terran, he feared both the influx of such massive ships returning to the Federation and the outcome of a Terran victory, after all that has happened.

"Wait!"

"Councilor Sparatus?" Tevos to him, wanting to know of his delay.

"We face a civil war at home." he seemed more concerned of the consequences, "We face traitors and possibly even the Terrans as an enemy because of what happened. The Hierarchy needs her navy to protect her. I motion for the Council to allow the recall of all Turians ships back to the Hierarchy as well!"

"What?"

"Those ships could easily desert to the Nation!" Udina argued though it wasn't his main concern, "We can't let them-"

Bowman stopped Udina. Though not wanted, Bowman was ready to deal with what he needed. He took a moment to think of what Sparatus was asking. Bowman stared up at Sparatus, but even from the distance and elevation, he stared the turian down with ease. He knew he was afraid. Done right, he could save face for his nation and the Turian's.

"Our Councilor will vote in favor of releasing the Turian fleet, on the condition we may withdraw our ships as well."

Nerval spoke out, quick to see the implication of that, "the Council cannot afford the loss of both the Terrans and Turians. With Asari and Salarian naval participation at its lowest, Council space would be utterly undefended! Countless races would be defenseless to raids from the Terminus and criminals within. Would both of you truly abandon the rest of the galaxy?"

Every other ambassador and diplomatic turned to the Terrans and the Turian Councilor to respond. Whatever answer comes next would have repercussion. If not for the future, then on the immediate events that were going to unfold. There was some predictability of what Bowman or Goyle would say, a vague promise and denial of such a thing. But the next line would cement just how the situation as developed.

" _Absolutely_!"

The shout of the answer spread across the room as fast as the air could vibrate it. Everyone turned to see who said that, but became clear who it was who said that. From the main elevator at the very end, the Primarch of the Hierarchy, Gaius Cassiud, walked out and towards the council. He was flanked by his personal Blackguards all around. As he ascended the stairs, several Terran Secret Agents beamed in around Bowman, waiting for the right moment to come in.

"President Bowman."

"Primarch Cassiud," Bowman turned to him with a stern face, "I feel I do not need to inform or warn you, of the situation you are in?"

"I am very aware." He turned to Councilor Sparatus, "Councilor, my order is clear. Bring our fleets home, and do whatever it takes!"

Sparatus looked at the Primarch, stunned by both his order to recall the fleet at the cost of allowing the Terrans to do the same as well. But the fact he made the order out loud for the potential enemy next to him to hear showed desperation he didn't want to know but had to understand.

"Primarch, I must know!" He pointed to the balcony towards Goyle, "If our fleets go, so will theirs! If the worse comes to pass, we face a war with against the humans. They will be our enemies! Only by Council, and its rule to which they so arrogantly proclaim to uphold keeps them at bay. And even then, I do not know how long it will be until they turn their backs on that for their own good."

Primarch Cassiud prepared to speak. Then he lost his nerve. His mind wandered, then he found himself unable to refute his subordinate, let along press his order. The aged and withered Primarch froze in place, right in front of his staff, in front of the Council, and in front of the leader of could very well be his true enemy.

But he wasn't completely withered away. At its most pressing point, he was determined to push through and make his authority clear.

He pointed at Bowman, "This man may pose a threat. But today, he is not one. The Council had left the Terrans hanging in its time of need. I know very well they will leave us to hang in our time as well. Our defense is of top priority. Our enemy is closer."

"Who?" Sparatus asked. He'll do what he was asked, but he wanted clear answers, "Who is of greater threat? The Terrans have been driven back…" He stopped. He glanced at the three Councilors, then turned back to him, "Arterius is advancing…"

"In all directions. And we must stop him. Councilor Sparatus. Mark your face. Who's side are you on?"

* * *

 **Part 3:**

 **Admiral Fedorian and the Turian Nation – Rubico System  
September 4, 2168 – 11:00:00 UTC**

"We're half way there!"

"Latavia deployed fighters from the _Soaring Spirits_! ETA fifty seconds!"

Victus and Tantulas' small shuttle dashed as fast as it could through the standoff space between the Fedorian and Latavia's fleet. Both fleets stood no more than few thousand kilometers from each other. Cruisers made the front line as dreadnoughts, and battlecruisers formed the backbone of the attack formation of each ship. The two turian fleets stood off, prepared for war and a final split of the Hierarchy. In between, a small shuttle trying to stop the inevitable.

A wave of fighters from the Nation fleet began their chase towards the shuttle. They crossed the gap between the two fleets and split off to get multiple angles of interception on the shuttle. The shuttle veered towards the nearest Hierarchy cruiser, hoping it would protect it. Instead, it simply crossed into the cruiser's area of control. In the confusion, guardian lasers opened fire on them all. The fighters broke off, but the Victus kept zigzagging to avoid strafing, before breaking off from the cruiser's range.

"Damn it, Professor, our IFF reads Hierarchy!"

"And we just scurried out of the Nation flagship. You can forgive them if they don't trust the systems," he looked around for the main communications system, "Come on now… Here! This is Professor Tantulas, Hierarchy Military Research and Development. I am in shuttle number 532, seeking refuge from Nation forces. Cease fire and prepare a berth immediately."

The two waited, both an answer quickly came to them.

"This is the _Proficio_. Admiral Fedorian has cleared you to dock. Head to Bay 3, immediately. Do not deviate from course."

"Roger," he passed the flight path to Victus, "Come on. Fedorian would want to debrief us."

The shuttle began its docking path towards one of the shuttle bays along the side of the _Proficio_ , the first of a series of battlecruisers the Hierarchy had launched. As it slowed down and prepared to move into the shuttle, a relay thousands of kilometers kit up in its intense blue light, indicating it was in use. More ships appeared from FTL as the shuttle touched down in the bay. Inside, marines swarmed the craft, anticipating anything from within.

From the hallway, Admiral Fedorian quickly walked out towards the shuttle as his guards rushed to cover his sides. The hatch then opened up.

"Professor Tantulas. Please step out of the shuttle," yelled one of the officers.

From the dark interior, the professor walked out with his talons raised up and onto the steps leading down. Guards approached him to escort him out, but the sight of a second person walking out caught their sight behind Tantulas. The moment Victus took a step off the shuttle and onto the scaffold, the Marines pulled Tantulas aside and charged at Victus. A quick tactical pull and shove, and Victus immediately slammed onto the floor with several Phaeston rifles on his head.

"Wait, wait!" yelled Tantulas.

He shoved out of the guards and rushed over to Victus before being stopped. Fedorian turned to him with a furious look on his face.

"Why is he here?"

"He's on our side!" argued Tantulas, "I wouldn't have escaped without his help."

"He sided with Desolas! I saw it myself!"

"Don't be surprised by one's actions," Victus spoke, his face still pressed on the ground, "For as the humans say, we live in interesting times."

Fedorian grabbed him by his collar and yanked him up, "I don't have time for this. Your stunt in drawing the rebel fleet out could have very well-"

"Admiral," the comm flared out, "The Home Fleet has arrived."

"Roger, connect the commander to me directly, now," He shoved Victus off, who stumbled onto the ground before the marines grabbed him, "We are not done here. Guards, send him to the brig. Professor, we must go, now!"

They quickly walked out of the shuttle bay. Fedorian stood nearly side by side with Victus, with the professor close behind. They went off in different directions as Fedorian made his way to the CIC. The arrival of the Home Fleet, the main defense detachment always over Palaven, was a seeming godsend Fedorian was waiting for. But with Victus, he knew he could never be too sure. Lines were being drawn all across the Hiearchy, and he had no such luxury as an assumption.

"Patching you in."

Fedorian checked his ear piece as they walked into an elevator.

"This is Fedorian."

"This is Admiral Gavlius of the 3rd Fleet. We have arrived on orders from Primarch Cassiud."

There was a mix of both caution and annoyance in Fedorian's voice, "Your time, let alone rate of deployment, was far from ideal."

"Agreed. Palaven did not receive Primarch Arterius' message of the Terrans very well. But rest assured, my fleet and I stand with you and the Hierarchy! We await your co-"

"Admiral? Gavlius, come in…"

His guards checked the long-range comm on the screen in their elevator.

"Outbound comms seemed to be blocked."

Tantulas spoke out, a thought quickly driving his actions, "Interference? Is there radiation? Flares or sunspots?"

Fedorian answered, "Rubico is a M-type star, Professor. Stable as can be…"

"Spirits, Fedorian-"

"I know!"

They arrived, and Fedorian made a beeline dash to his overlooking station across the CIC. The crew also in a commotion as stations reported in on their condition. Officers and specialist were rushing to different stations to check out disturbances.

"Comms down…"

An officer reported in, "Sir, the Nation has advanced their position. Closest distance at four thousand kilometers."

"Admiral!" Tantuals ran up to his side, "We are well within range. This is it. The Will of the Titans!"

"I am well aware." He shouted out orders, "Order the fleet on short comm. Thin the line by ten kilometers wide. And get Systems to purge our computers!"

"Victus bought you time," he said, updating Fedorian on the situation, if also trying to plead Victus' case, "That program isn't at full capacity. But they won't need long to get it working."

He looked over his encompassing holo screens, giving them a quick glance to confirm his current position. With a hammered fist to the railing in frustration, he called out.

"Fleet Stats!"

"Four Thousand Nation. Six Thousand Hierarchy. We have numbers."

He sighed, "Does it even matter? The Terrans would have sent far more ships at Shanxi… and achieve little else anyway..."

"Message from Gavluis, sir."

A holographic video of the Home Fleet commander appeared where Fedorian's Galaxy map was. The image was distorted with static fading in constantly changing parts of the Admiral's avatar.

"Admiral Feodrian. Main comms are shot. It must be the same weapon Arterius used hours earlier to shut all imperial comms."

"We have deduced the same…" He leaned on his railings, in thought for a moment, then sighed, "Their hacking program has been sabotaged by… loyal agents. But it won't last, and we have no true countermeasures. I'm calling a full fleet withdrawal. Have your ships run screens to block them from intercepting. They won't dare attack and let this escalate this to full-"

The comms then went dead. The ship momentary trembled, and everyone in the CIC felt the shock. It was minor, but a noticeable one with a clear cause. The main mass effect core must have glitched, and the current fluctuated, causing unstable gravity forces throughout the ship. The realization of what caused that was immediately apparent.

"Bring back comms! Commander, ship status report!"

"Main computers glitched. Active jamming is now in effect in the area. Only tightbeam communications are now possible."

Tantulas pointed it out to Fedorian, "They're bringing the program back to full power. We can barely notice the hacks, only the effects it does."

"Long-range visual confirms movement of the Nation Fleet. They're moving on our flank closes to the Home Fleet, and the Home Fleet itself."

The elevator behind them opened up, a panicking General Radoria rushing out to meet with the admiral.

"What the hell is going on? Have we engaged?"

"The rebel fleet has begun hacking protocols and appear to be moving against us to close the range," explained Tantulas. Fedorian was too focused on the new situation. But Radoria wanted his attention.

"Then they are the aggressors! Fedoiran, open fire with your battlecruisers' guns. We outrange them and can intercept them before they strike!"

"But we are still the ones to fire first!" He turned back and yelled at the general, "We fire this shot, and every turian in the galaxy will hear it. There will be no one on the fence. We will be divided!"

"We are divided. There are the traitors! And as your senior officer, I order you to attack!"

"You have no jurisdiction on this shi-"

Tantulas interrupt with a simple statement.

"Attack, Admiral."

"What, professor?"

"We are already fractured. No mere rebellion or mutiny. This is a civil war over who shall have the legitimate right to rule our race. They'll bomb the Terrans to prove their worth. You'll have to do the same to keep our worth.

"I won't martyr them to their cause."

"They will come to you!" His voice raised, "Arterius leads the Nation. But you, for all real intent, lead the Hierarchy. If you die here, then so does it. There's no more retreat. Fight this war now, or die to end it today!"

"They're moving dreadnoughts into position. Form long-range visual, its seems the Home Fleet is scattered."

Fedorian made his mind. "Target solutions?"

"We already have the advancing ships targeted, and calculated. We attack now and they won't have time to reposition."

"Bah, the traitor Latavia doesn't even think you'll do it," boasted Radoira, "Prove her wrong, and dead if possible."

"Long range battlecruisers and our four dreadnoughts have shifted to firing position. Ten seconds until the position correction is noticed."

"How I would rather be wrong instead…"

"Five seconds!"

"… Open Fire!"

The dozen or so ships in position fired their main mass accelerator gun. There was an eerie silence on the CIC, almost as quiet as the void their slugs were traveling. Even in space, that would be the shot heard across the galaxy. Each slug, with a force-TNT equivalent of a few hundred kilotons in strength, raced across the void towards the ships preparing to intercept the Home Fleet. They had already noticed Fedorian had brought his most powerful ships to aim at them and begun maneuvering, but they were too slow to dodge the killer round that shredded them. Dozens of Turian ships were torn apart, round punctured massive holes through the hull, or broke the backbone superstructure and cut them up.

"Re-aim. Target the _Widow's Wrath_ and her escorts. All power to maneuvering thrusters. Make this quick!"

"Aye, sir!"

In the confusion of the attack, they maneuvered their ships to and quickly brought their guns to bear on the center of the Nation's line, were Admiral Latavia's ship was. They fired off more rounds, joined by heavy cruisers whose guns were the closest to boot regarding range. They traveled the close distance just as fast, but Latavia was prepared enough. Her ships were already moving at speed to dodge. But Fedorian's barrage scattered them long enough to retreat.

"Confirm miss!"

"Sir, the center and left flank have still scattered in the barrage. Counter attack on us directly is unlikely for next few minutes."

"That's our cue. Our point has been made. Sound retreat and take us back to the relay. Alert Gavlius to do the same and form a rear guard for us."

"Yes, sir…" In the pause during which Feodrian's fleet turned about to head to the relay, the officer on comms discovered the immediate consequences of their attraction. "… I can't raise them."

"What do you mean? Comms should have cleared."

"Well… spirits. Transferring radar readings. You'll want to see this sir."

Fedorian got the information, and immediately he shoved the holoscreen away in disgust. Tantulas and Radoira turned to it to see what it was. Long range scans made clear what was now happening. The main Nation fleet was still shaken up by Fedorian's response. But the attack had prompted only action among the Home Fleet, who saw everything. In the short time span, the fleet divided between their loyalty and it accumulated with a surprise attack on the flagship, before the rest of the fleet aimed at each other.

Like the Turians themselves, the fleet divided down the line, and comrades suddenly became enemies that were all too close.

"More than a third of the Home Fleet been lost. The main Nation fleet is not pursuing us, however."

Fedorian began a slow walk to the elevator, "Get a rear guard to get the remains of the loyal ships to retreat. Maintain our current course otherwise."

Tantulas turned to him, "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to talk to Victus. Commander, man the CIC. General Radoira…"

"Yes?"

"Get the hell off my CIC."

* * *

 **Citadel Chambers**

"I stand by the Hierarchy!" Sparatus quickly tried to blurt out loud for everyone to here, as well as assert his loyalty to the Primarch in front of him, "Loyal Turians shall rally under your rule. And the Council shall aid us, heroes of the Rebellion, defenders of the galaxy for thousands-"

"Birds with large lungs to tweet with no end. Dear God…" Goyle sighed in annoyance, rolling her eyes, "If I wanted to hear speeches, I'd stay in Congress. Call the vote! If you want those ships, have them." she leaned on her podium, "We'll have more!"

He stared at her and ground his teeth, but turned back to his podium, "I call for the official vote."

Tevos objected, "Councilor Sparatus if you withdraw your fleet, you set as dangerous a precedence as the Terrans withdrawing their ships."

"They have done nothing but!" He brought up the official vote on secession, the main holographic displays aside from them displaying the motion, "But our defense is of highest concern."

"As is ours!" Nerval said, "The galaxy will not forget this moment of abandonment."

"Neither will we!" said Bowman.

Cassiud shouted right afterm "Damn it, Sparatus. Return the fleets, now. We must be united..."

His omnitool made a loud alert when a message came in. Everyone's omnitools and watches did the same also a second later. Everyone was prompted to turn to see what it was. For most, they were intelligence reports. For others, they were breaking news headlines. The content was the same.

"Goodness me..."

Nerval quickly got the news outline that was just as updated as Salarian intelligence, and he tossed it up to the main holographic display. There was no doubt of its authenticity. Rumors bred fact. The lines have been drawn.

" _Confirm Report of a battle in the Rubico System;_

 _Imperial Turian Fleet in retreat after the skirmish with National Forces._

 _Casualties in the tens of thousands."_

"Spirits, no..."

Cassiud cursed under his breath, "Damn it, Fedorian. What have you done?"

A Blackguard turned to the Primarch and informed him of what the details were. But he quickly brushed him off and turned to Sparatus and pointed at him.

"Vote, now!"

"There's no more guarantee anymore, Sparatus." Nerval pulled him his attention. Cassiud had no more pull, "If they leave their post, your ships could very well desert. It's only a few relay jumps into Hierarchy _or_ Nation space."

Tevos added on, "Don't fuel this war. At home and in Federation space."

"This is madness. Recall the fleets, Councilor. Let us fight our war, and you fight yours," Goyle shoved her way across the stand, "Think about it. We could truly work together… Or you can damn this galaxy for one war after the other."

"Damn it, Councilor! Are you listing to me!?" said Cassiud.

Bowman turned Cassiud, his expression flat, "So this is what it has come to..."

Sparatus' jaw dropped. His mandibles twitched. He stared at the screen in front of him as the other three Councilors hovered over him. More news and intelligence reports rushed in front of him. Hours ago, he through was given the perfect political storm to cast his political enemy out. Now, he saw just what the situation truly was. His race divided. Thousands dead, and more to come. He was powerless to exploit one event and powerless to stop another. No matter his vote, the motion was already decided.

"No..."

"What?"

"I vote no!"

"What!"

"Those ships will stay, Primarch!" he leaned over his podium, "I won't let this division spread beyond our borders. No Imperialist or Nationalist. Only Turian. Even if it must be far from home."

"Ah hell," Goyle ran to her podium, "I vote yes!"

"Councilor Goyle, end this. You won't get those ships. The Federation will fulfill its obligation, and another fleet won't fix what you are facing." Nerval returned to his post to kill the vote, "I vote no."

"So do I," said Tevos, sealing its fate. She took control of the room, "War has come back to this galaxy. We will not let it spread; we will not fuel it with material and support. The Council will not let this war ruin what we have achieved."

President Bowman shouted out in rage. He already accepted the answer, but now had to acted furious to maintain some sense of control at home once the news got there, "Achieved? We saved you at Illium! We rebuilt your economy! We jumpstarted this stagnant galaxy, ushering a new age of science and culture! And you left us to die!"

"And don't think you owe everything to him!" Primarch Cassiud entered the fray. He knew he had no power to get the Salarians or Asari to vote in favor, but now he saw his own internal power falter, "We defended this galaxy for thousands of years. We save you from your mistakes. Clear now it is, we lived and worked together, and it means nothing!"

"We are protecting more than ourselves! Countless billions are under our protections. We cannot risk the lives of so many!" said Nevral, "The galaxy must come first!"

"Cut off the cancer and save the rest?" Bowman was bewildered. He actually grinned and chuckled, striking fear in the other ambassadors in the room with the distinctive human insanity. But at that point, there was nothing he could do but tell them off. He needed to bring some victory home, "We could have stood apart. We could have let this Council die and claim the galaxy for ourselves. You betrayed us! And this entire galaxy can rest assured. We will be victorious, regardless, over this false vendetta. And our scourge will be all too real!"

He snapped his fingers, and almost on cue like a performance, he, Udina, and their guards were whisked away by a swarm of light. As bright as the beams of electrons were, many could tell the brightness was just as terrible as his threat would be. Before they could turn to the last human in the room, Goyle was already walking away. The meeting was over, and she had no intent to listen to mere shouting.

"Councilor Sparatus. Consider your career dead!" Cassiud turned to Tevos and Nerval, "Don't think the humans will have the last word. The Turians will not forget this as well. You have seen no true vendetta against us, yet!"

The Turian could only storm off from the chamber, flanked by guards. The Terrans maintain their still mysterious trait. But the diplomats down below could see very well the Turians' character, and it was from anything weakening as they walked away.

"Sparatus?"

He walked away towards his end of the chamber. The chamber quickly echoed that sentiment as everyone else made way to leave as well. The two remaining Councilors stood there, contemplating their decision.

"What would you suggest we do now?" asked Tevos.

"We made our choice. They, there's. Now to wait and see what comes next."

* * *

 **Part 4:**

 **Zaeed Massani – Shanxi  
September 4, 2168 – 12:00:00 UTC**

His head ached as he slowly regained consciousness. His eyes were near shut, and he could only see a blur beyond him. He groaned as he was slowly dragged away. The armor on him scrapped against the concrete he laid on. He opened his eyes some more, seeing a series of pipes. He lifted his head up to see what was in front of him.

"Any word from Able?"

"We're too deep. Last they reported, they're scouting the city."

"Spirits, the city must be swarming with them by now..."

Zaeed noticed the confines walls. They were part of the sewer systems. Ahead was a massive opening at the end of the tunnel away from him. A moment after, something crashed down into it, throwing a pile of dust out into the tube.

"What was that?!" said one of the people dragging Zaeed through the sewer. He had a somewhat high pitch voice.

The other responded, with a vibration in the tone, "It was just that tank. Good thing we were here, or he under all of that."

They reached the end of the tunnel, where another one intersected it. They pulled him up and rested him along the wall.

"Where… where am I?" Zaeed asked as he regained more of his sense. A quick whiff through his tone promted a repsonce, "No, no. I know that. Who are you?"

The second man crouched down to eye level and spoke.

"John Brown."

"Brown?"

"John Brown." He said again.

"John… Brown…"

Zaeed shook his head and squinted, taking another good look of the person in front of him. He stared down at him before he realized who it was. He immediately straightens up at the sight of a turian in front of him, but a thought crossed his mind of what he said.

"John Brown… is alive!"

"Sergeant," Satorius extended his hand to him and pulled him up, "It's good to see you again."

"You're that bird from Camala?"

"Satorius Melchan. First Militia. We were taking cover from the Hierarchy troops above when we found you."

"Well…" He looked around, just seeing clearly now they were in the sewer system under the city, "All things considered, you're a sight for these sore eyes." He looked over to the collapsed sewer section he fell into, then cracked a smile, "I guess that makes us even for Camala?"

"My comrades and I still intend to pay our debt to the Federation. Whatever madness compelled the Hierarchy or whatever they're calling themselves to invade, we won't stand by."

Zaeed nodded, "Good to know," he reached over, and Sartorius handed him his rifle, "What's the situation above."

The salarian with them responded, "The battle was lost! Turian Naval support broke through and crushed Terran forces."

"And to makes matters worse, we can't get evac to pre-destined locations. The city is locked down, and we can't let the civilians still stuck in central park to remain in captivity."

"Shit…" he sighed ever briefly to avoid breathing in the air underground, "You said Able Squad is topside?"

Satorius explained, "The Turians are everywhere, but with the spaceport utterly destroyed, military forces remain scattered. A marine captain took command of your squad."

"I honestly don't know if I should mad about the fact the birds beat us, or a marine has my squad…"

Down the tunnel, an asari slid down a ladder up to the street. She rushed to Sartorius to inform him of the situation above.

"Two more platoons entered the city. But they are having trouble clearing each building," she said.

"We need to be up there. Let's make a rush for a building. Stay out of sight and find Able."

* * *

 **Part 5:**

 **Williams and Paris – Shanxi  
September 4, 2168 – 11:00:00 UTC**

A few kilometers away, in an abandoned farm at the outskirts of the organized colony, a swarm of twirling lights appeared from thin air above. As they formed, the cluster of light and the matter inside them quickly fell towards the ground. Below them was a cart of hay, and as the last twirling electron dissipated, they crashed right into the hay.

A plume of hay burst into the air and fell around them. The cart's axis broke, and it collapsed onto the ground, pouring out its remaining content. With it, Paris and Williams rolled onto the ground. Clenching his now broken transporter baton, he laid there moaning.

Williams shot up, quickly looking at their surroundings.

"Damn… that was invigorating! Huh, Paris?"

A moment past, then Paris rolled over and stared at him, "That makes one of us."

Williams turned to the cart as helped himself up, "So much for the hay landing. Though we are no assassins."

Behind him, Paris slowly crawled back up. He slowly reached for his holstered pistol. But Williams was quick to judge he would do so and was already reaching for his revolver. They both gripped their handles, and for an instant, both prepared to draw. A Turian shuttle then zoomed by right above them. They both drew, but both aimed at the shuttle as it made a wide turn back for them.

Paris rushed up, "We have to get out of here!"

They both ran off towards the house. Behind them, the oscillating sound of the engines grew louder as the Turians circled. Bashing their way in, the two rushed through the house to the garage on the other end. Williams kicked the door opened, and to their luck, there was an old jeep inside.

"Take the wheel!" he yelled.

Paris ran around and got in the seat. As Williams took the shotgun position, Paris raised his watch towards the key ignition, trying to hack his way through the computer.

"Come on... Come on!"

Williams looked back at the door, hearing the sound of Turian marines making their way into the house.

"Now, Admiral!"

"Come on... Yes!"

The engine ignited, and the jeep came to life. As a marine quickly checked his corner into the garage, Paris floored the pedal. Outside, the closed prefab metal garage door burst open and a few Turians dove out the way as the two Terrans made their escape. The rest of the squad ran out and opened fire as they drove off into the road. A quick turn to the right and they were out of sight as the wheat fields hid them from view.

"I think we lost them," said Paris.

"Let's keep it that way."

Williams reached for one of the stars on his collar. A quick pry opened it to reveal a tiny circuit chip, a standard issue gear for health monitoring. He then went to pry off the screen on the dashboard and rewired it to the board in a quick, haphazard manner, though the chip was design for it.

"A small mass effect field to hide our signatures. Should buy us some time until they notice the field itself with detailed sensors."

"So, Code De Gaulle?"

Williams sat back in his seat, "All surviving forces are to retreat and go underground. Secret bases, special shelters."

Paris looked around, but nothing in front of them and only fields of crop around them.

"How many you have stationed here?"

"Three of the finest divisions of the Third Army. I lead the veterans during the Revival. We were spread out across the valley, for any bird to see…"

Paris reluctantly spoke, "We shouldn't have lost orbital. They drew you out, then knocked us out to get you. Defeating Roland showed they could fight us. Doesn't matter how they did it. But you, this icing on the cake. And it won't be long until they use it as a message-"

"For Earth? Earth means nothing to us… They know that. A tragedy for another day. But if they take Arcturus? They simply threaten invasion of the colonies, and we lose."

Paris kept going, shifting gear, "We never saw it coming."

Williams murmured to himself, "We never saw it coming."

Paris' eyes turned to him. He sat back on the cushion and dropped one hand near his lap. His pistol was millimeters away.

Williams simple crossed his arms and looked forward. He tightens his embrace, edging his finger close enough to the handle of his Colt revolver.

* * *

 **Part 6:**

 **Roland and Emily  
Arcturus  
September 4, 2168 – 12:00:00 UTC**

"Th-Th-Th-The reports…" he asked with depressed reluctance in his weak voice.

"Please clarify response," Asked the computer.

He lost his chain of thought as he looked straight on. A few second passed by, then he replied.

"Uh, casualties."

"Please wait. Main computer core is offline. Patching through Arcturus Command."

Roland stood over the viewport of his ready room, his hands in his pockets as he leaned over and pressed his forehead to the glass. Outside, there was Arcturus Station in the distance. Closer, there was the remnants of the Second Fleet taskforce. His own ship had barley limped to a dock. And Roland had only now just made it back to his room, having wondered the ship at a loss.

He pushed off from the viewport and walked to his personal atom forger.

"Report?"

"Still compiling."

He sighed and whispered, "Tea. Hot."

"All reserve gasses have been cut. Energy has been prioritized for engineering."

He walked away from the forger in his wall and thumped back slowly to his desk. He crashed into his seat and slumped there, then turned to a bottom drawer. He slid it open, and slowly turned his head to look at it. In-between old paper folders was a bottle of Commonwealth Irish Whiskey, a local Dublin brand with a 2131 date stamp.

Roland took the bottle and a glass out. It was covered with dust, having been there since he was given the ship. He cradled the bottle close to him and, with a rather poor effort, he tried to pull it open.

"God damn it… Computer, report!"

"Still compiling."

He yelled out his bitter despair, then frustration as the cap stayed tight and shut, "Jesus fucking Christ!"

"Incoming from Arcturus. Congressional Office-"

"Just patch it in!"

As he struggled to open it, a hologram materialized at the door of his ready room. Just as she completed materializing, Roland got the bottle open.

"Andrew, I heard- Andrew!"

Debra dashed to his desk. From her side in her office, she shoved seats aside as she phased through those on Roland's side. A quick press on her watch allowed the holograms on her side to solidified, and she vaulted over his now solid desk. Before he could take a swig, she grabbed hold of the bottle. Roland immediately struggled to keep it.

"Damn it, Andrew!"

"Let go, Debra!"

"I am not watching you spiral into the gutter again! I won't let you do that!"

"Let go!"

"Computer, increase my hologram force projection by 100%!"

With ease, she immediately ripped the bottle out of his hand and tossed it against the wall in a fit of rage.

"Damn it, that was a gift from when I graduated from the academy!"

"And it would be your downfall!"

Roland grabbed his screen and slammed it on his desk in front of her.

"This is my downfall! Computer, report!"

The screen lit up. The list appeared and scrolled down with blinding speed as the names of everyone now official KIA filled his screen. They both stood there and watched as the list of names filled the screen in rapid succession and scrolled down at a blistering rate. Hundreds of thousands of names zipping by like black dots flashing against the white background. A good long minute went by before it stopped. With an average of nearly a thousand personnel per ship, the long wait only drew more grief from Roland.

"Ship Loss Confirmed: 3,274. Naval and Marine Personnel confirm KIA: 2,134,578. MIA: 738,284. Casualties: estimate 40,284. Estimate time of flotilla repair…"

"Stop report" commanded Debra. She quickly grabbed hold of her husband, "God, Andrew. I'm so sorry."

He collapsed into his seat and out of his wife's arms, "D-Don't apologize to me…" he shut the console off, "Three hours of battle. One single battle. Nearly three million loss. Thousands of ships, gone…" he turned to look at the spilled whiskey on his carpet floor across the room, "I oversaw the greatest single defeat in human history."

"Don't blame yourself-"

"It is my fault!" Roland stood up, "I am the Fleet Admiral! I should have known they had some damn ex machina. To have the gall to attack us, I should have realized they only do so if they had a real plan of winning… now millions are dead, more so on Shanxi, and I let it happen. I got them killed, and to the Turians, nothing but a humiliation to stab us in our hearts, and show it to the galaxy."

"Andrew, look at me," Debra grabbed him by the arms and made him look at her, "We are at war. And we need to rally now, more than ever before!"

"How can I? They crush the very fleet that conquered an entire race in a week! 'Millions dead!' will read on the front page. Do you remember the last time that was a sight? It's like the Great Revival all over again: Millions dying on Earth. The Sol and First Fleet was blowing itself to pieces trying to blockade Sol. God…" he sat back down and looked up at her, "That was mere years ago. The Skyllian Blitz, First Contact, who are we kidding ourselves for? We aren't ready. And it was my failure, and the lives of those under my command to drive that point home. Weak as ever before."

She kneed over to look him in the eye at his level.

"That was nearly twenty years ago. We nearly lost our homeworld. But now the threat is bigger. And we could lose everything. Do you understand that? We clawed our way back from the ashes. If we fail now, every single one that died on Earth, died for nothing."

"For nothing…" he looked at her with a straight face, "So many did die, on that day years ago. Hundreds of millions. All numbers than names." Roland turned the console back on, "I commanded this fleet for years, yet I can't begin to name even a fraction of the ships in it. All gone, and I have to remind myself that means losses of so many individuals and not just metal."

Debra looked at the screen, "Your staff… you knew them, didn't you?"

"Aye, that I do."

He sorted the list. The names of the Second Fleet Admiralty appeared in first at the top of the list. He began reading the names.

"Cullen, Russell, Clement, Dedrick, El-Hashem, O'Keefe, Faerber, Second Flotilla. Hasem's birthday was a few weeks ago, actually. Barely made it to the party, without a present, but she seemed to enjoyed I made it at all…

"Bonaventura, Pentti, Aalto, Seidel, Nguyen, Baqire, Romano, Daria, Alisha, Fourth Flotilla. Met Nguyen, Aalto, and Daria in graduation. I always thought Aalto was going to beat me to a fleet command. Owes me twenty, but I guess that's inconsequential now…

"Then there's Third Flotilla: Ronald, Vasilisa, Kelsey, Jerold, Edmond, Villyard… Oh God, Villyard…"

"Villyard?"

"He was my second. He, uh… he was up for promotion." Roland looked at her, "Donnelly told me he was going to be named commander of the new Seventh Fleet."

"My God, what a loss."

"More so. Nathan should have gotten the Fifth... I passed him over for Steven. I played favorite, and yet he stood by me for years waiting for his own time. Met and survived the damn Revival! Now he's dead… God has my fleet. And a damn fine set of commanders to lead."

A new alert came up.

"Incoming message. Priority-1. Office of the President of the United Terran Federation."

Debra embraced her husband and rubbed foreheads together, "You'll want to answer this, Andrew." She gave him a light kiss, "You can do this. You did before. Now again, for us all..."

Her call ended. He kept looking at where she was for a moment, then turned to the call. He sighed but relented as he walked over and opened the comm. There was a short delay as the signal connected and secured itself. Then two holograms appeared where is tossed chairs where.

* * *

"Mr. President! Admiral Muhamad!" He sharpened up and saluted them.

"Admiral, please sit. We have much to discuss."

Roland reached for his seat. The other two looked around to see their own seats and reached to pick them back up to sit down. As they sat down, Muhamad noticed the broken bottle of whiskey on the opposite side of the wall, and the large stain on the carpet below.

"I see you hitting the bottle… quite literally."

Bowman added on, "Drescher told me about the bottle you kept. A vintage Kilbeggan Commonwealth Irish Whisky, circa, uh… 31? Your, uh, father got it for you when you got married, so I heard."

"Uh, yeah. A sort of reconciliation gift," He chuckled, "I was hoping to open it up once I got my own ship…" He turned to the broken, and unopened bottle, "But the last war placed that on hold."

"A waste. You know Bowman, Albert got me a vintage bourbon, pre-20th century."

He smiled and raised an eyebrow, "Donnelly knows you don't drink."

"Yes, so he immediately took it back and drank the whole damn thing himself. In front of me! That crazy, selfish bastard…"

They all laughed for a bit, breaking the tense atmosphere in Roland's room. After a bit of time, and some general nodding, Roland stared at the broken bottle again and spoke.

"But maybe it's for the best… We are facing a new war."

"A sobering fact," Bowman sat up, "Admiral Roland. I feel I must let you know it was not your fault for what happened over Shanxi."

"I lost more than a quarter of my fleet!" he rushed back up, "Two million dead!"

He gestured him back down to his seat, "From the report from your staff, you were ambushed, and they used a new weapon against you. There was nothing you could have done to stop it. As I speak, the Turian Nation is tearing through Valenzuela's defenses. I fear the losses we will take just delaying them."

"My God. They'll be here in days…The Nation?"

Admiral Muhamad brought the information up to him through his watch, "You must not have seen the announcement. A rogue Turian Primarch launched an unauthorized attack against us. Not only has the Hierarchy denied involvement, but they have now entered combat against them. They are in civil war."

"Civil war?" He sat back down as he stared at his monitor, "W-We have a common enemy. Are we going to assist them?"

"Absolutely not." Bowman leaned over on his seat, "The Council blocked the return of our fleets under Council control. And it was their own councilor that ensured that. They blocked the return of their own fleet as well. There is nothing to gain from an alliance with them. We are on our own."

Roland sat back up and tucked his shirt, "More ships won't stop them. That weapon they have. They can disable entire fleets. Our AIs can't stop it. And without that edge, they have all of our other tactics marked and countered."

"As it stands, we are in a dire situation. An enemy with which we have no counter," said Muhamad, "The best we can do right now is to redeploy the Sol Fleet to Arcturus."

"We lost too many already. And throwing more ships won't fix it. We could delay them to maybe Resiliency Day… What of Arcturus Station itself?"

"I don't have to tell you of the consequences if we lose the capital station. You most certainly know what will happen if we lose the main relay hub for the entire nation, and the gateway to Earth." Bowman sat back in his seat and calmly asked, "But we are here to discuss preventing that."

Roland scooted up his seat and leaned over to them, "A defense of Arcturus? I, uh, can't think of how we can do that. We should consider using a transwarp conduit to move the station out of the system. Without cyber support, the Turians have us out-range. And we can't engage without risking massive casualties from that program they have."

"We have been working on that." The main holoprojector between the three of them turned on, "Three Rapture Defense Satellites are being recommissioned over Mars. That may give you some long-range weaponry if the Turians hold off for a long-range barrage."

They stared at the large satellite platform. It was a long construct of nearly ten kilometers, with five outward solar collecting arms three kilometers in length. Along the main body was its main weapon, the Rapture Mass Accelerator cannon, with several tens of thousands of tons of element zero that coiled and wrapped the barrel from front to back. Derived from scraps of Prothean knowledge found across the Terran galaxy, they all stared at these monuments that once covered Earth.

"Bringing those Revival leftovers is already controversial enough…"

"Compared to this war itself and not getting our fleets back, this but a misdemeanor."

"You remember the specs?" asked Muhamad, before sighing in remembrance of using one, "At 95% light speed, you can shoot down our fastest ships over the moon from low Earth Orbit. And these should have a safe power level of a quarter gigaton TNT."

"The lives these things claimed. The lives we hope to claim with them. God…"

Roland slouched in his seat and kept staring at the image. Both of them watched him as he kept silent and looked on. Seeing the same image of what should have been the guardian angel, and ended up bringing so much hell, they couldn't blame him. They all looked on until Muhamad disengaged the hologram.

"Well, yes. These can aid in keeping the Turians from assaulting the station, for a while. But this is only a temporary solution. We need to find out what is that hacking program the Turians have. If this war goes long, or the Hierarchy or Salarian STG gets the program as well, we would be in a terrible strategic position. If we devise a counter, we win the war…"

"We win the galaxy…"

Bowman tapped his watch. The projector turned off; then a new hologram formed up in front of Roland's desk. In front of them materialized feminine Asian woman standing 175 centimeters. She was fully dressed in the Terran Army formal uniform circa 2140, and the all too distinctive Blue Beret adorn her head. Upon the last protons moving into place, she then moved at an ease position.

Bowman smiled and gestured to her, "Roland, do you recognize her?"

He looked at her from his seat, thinking, "Uh, well… I feel I saw her before… Wait, this is… that's it, Vice-President, I mean, President Lin's daughter!"

"Well yes… and no. Given her creation by Synthetic Insight, I am not surprised they use her as a template."

"Sir?"

"Please, Emily. Address yourself to the admiral."

She stopped and turned in formal military style, and saluted Admiral Roland, all while her outfit was changed to the modern Naval Formal Blue.

"Sir! I am Lieutenant Emily Leong, the Command AI of Arcturus Station."

Muhamad leaned forward, "Say hello to the new Mark Five Syntha-Human. The most advance AI in the galaxy. We had planned to unveil her for Resiliency Day with the new Congress. But now is as good a time to bring her online.

"Mark Five? May I ask how she differs? That weapon did away of our finest Mark Twos, Threes, and Fours."

Emily answered for herself, with a strong and confident tone, "Allow me to clarify, Admiral Roland. Our current models and my older predecessors were all design and made to recreate the thinking and workings of organic humans. In this galaxy, where we face dangers from the Council to the Quarian's Geth, we needed complete supremacy in this field. So is my creation. I surpass any known super computer in history, and by factors immeasurable. I am not chained by the limits of the human conceived ability. With much pride and confidence, the few human qualities I am still bound by, I am the most advanced being in the Milky Way galaxy."

He shrugged in disbelief, "I see then," Roland leaned back, "She is our ultimate weapon?"

"Closet literature comparison would be, _God from the machine,_ admiral."

Roland scuffed the idea. Though he couldn't be picky, "If she can withstand the Turian's hack and find a counter, why has she not been deployed to the Fourth Fleet and Valenzuela?"

"Because even she has her own shortcomings," Said Bowman, "As much as she doesn't want to admit it." Bowman pointed over at his viewport, and to the station, "Emily here is hardware bound to the servers on Arcturus. Specially design for her processing. No simple transfer. Arcturus is her body; she is its soul."

"Given her… age, everyone in the Joint Chiefs of Staff is hesitant to employ a barely commissioned AI. She was brought online for boot-up just hours ago, and her main computers won't be up and running until Friday…" Muhamad, send a new data packet to Roland, "But our choices are limited."

Roland nodded, "Then it's clear. We need to bring the Turians to her…" He read the data on his screen, "We'll have to make our stand here. A Battle of Arcturus."

"Valenzuela will hold them off as long as possible. Buy us time. But this may be the very battle to decide the war."

"An apparently short war it could be," Emily remarked.

"We win, or we're all dead by the end of the week," said Roland.

"That would be very inconvenient."

"If we lose, that includes you also, Emily."

She appeared puzzled. The thought of her own destruction and removal from existence struck an interesting thought process. She stood there, arms crossed, stroking her chin, contemplating in what was arguably the most generic 'thinking human' pose. For a creature that can express and feel emotional on its own choosing, the sight of a newly born lifeform now contemplating death was an interesting one for the three men.

"I… see."

Bowman stood up, "That would be all for now, Emily."

She broke away from thought and turned to him to salute.

"Sir!"

She disappeared, and Bowman gestured the other Admirals to stand up.

"The Sol Fleet will be here to supplement the losses of the Second and Fourth. But you and Valenzuela would be the only ones really able to lead the defense. Can we count on you?"

Roland quickly bobbed his head to psyched him, then he turned and saluted, "Yes sir!"

"Good… Uh, Admiral Roland."

"Yes, Mr. President?"

Bowman looked him in the eye, "How are you doing?"

Roland froze for a moment, thinking about an answer.

"I… I'm fine. Have to be now. Its everything or nothing."

"Yes, well… We want you to be. But don't feel you have to scuff off your losses. Millions dead. Your closest staff is gone. We are all here for you."

"I, uh… I am aware." He leaned on his deck and sighed, staring down at the wooden desk, then looked his head back up, "Too many loss, too quickly."

"Yah… Herold."

"Of course, Jonathan."

He ended his line, leaving the two alone. Bowman sat back down, laying his head back to think.

"Roland, you remember what I told you, back over Elysium?"

Roland sat down, curious, "You mean about the _Excalibur_?"

Bowman sat up and nodded, "We both fought in the Revival. We know of taking lives. Of losing lives… We saw Earth burn. And I be damn, it wasn't the first world I help to burn."

Roland nodded, "It's a very delicate secret. Imagine the galaxy, our Batarian citizens, learn of what you did."

"I think I can. This Turian Nation believes, and told the galaxy; I orchestrated the raider attack on Illium." He paused, almost giving away his real through of it, but his guilt of both events masked it, "And now we lost over two million Terran lives… A lie killed them. They want revenge… I wanted revenge. They'll burn the Federation as I burned that colony. One set of lies and secrets keeps the cycle from beginning, but another can just make anew. It seems hate, anger, can make us do so much…"

"So you want me to be angry?"

"Yes… Wait, no. No, no, no." Bowman buried his face in his hands, "I don't know where I am getting at. I destroyed a planet out of anger. With a lie, the Turians could destroy us, and if the truth comes out, so many more will still. Anger… It's a way. But maybe not the right one. I guess up to now; I can't explain how to really react to such loss. I should be the one to help you cope with what happened. But I guess we are all coping with it, up to now."

Roland stood up, "I understand my losses are great. And damn if I still blame myself. But at least I know I can do something to fix it. Whether to motivate me or bury my guilt, you can count on me, President Bowman. Win the battle, win the war… deal with the 'peace' after."

Roland sighed and walked around his desk to the broken bottle. Bowman joined him.

"I don't think I'll be mourning for this," He picked up the still intact bottom, swirling the mix of liquor and glass shards in it.

"No use crying over spilled milk." Bowman cracked a grin, "Good milk that would have been?"

Roland nodded to him, "Well…" He lifted the glass up and poured the rest out and onto the floor with the rest. "Libation for the dead. They deserve it…" He looked inside the glass and pinkied a small drop to taste. He frowned, "Bah… 31' wasn't a good year anyway. Don't you agree?"

"Yah… Don't we all?"

* * *

 _Let there be no mistake. The attack on Illium, the destruction of the council fleet guarding against the terminus, and the rise of the Terrans to galactic power, were not random events!_

 _Their leaders are the ones who orchestrated the destruction of the council fleet, resulting in the death of tens of thousands of our serving brothers and sisters. They are the ones who attacked Illium, killing millions of innocent lives. They are the ones who crashed our economy, making beggars out of all of you._

 _It was the Terran-Humans that killed millions to be your 'saviors', ruined your livelihood to be your 'benefactors,' orchestrated a coup of the Council itself to be your 'protectors.'_

 _So, you can see. The Terrans, these humans. Look around and see what they have changed. They have fooled you into accepting their control, but no more. I bring you the truth! The new Turian Nation shall stop the Terran menace, the great… scourge they have intent on bringing onto us all. We shall push the humans back into the rock they crawled off of. We shall restore the galaxy back to its prime, and exact our Vendetta!_

 _I ask you all, join us! For as spoken in the ancient language, we have 'Casus Belli'! The Terrans can be stopped. Their infection can be pushed back. Join us and we shall reclaim our lost glory._

 **The last part of Primarch Desolas Arterius's speech to the entire galaxy on the 'Crimes and Actions' of the United Terran Federation – Date Stamp: September 4, 2168 – 10:00:00 UTC**

* * *

" _It was a terrible time. Scary, too!"_

" _Yes. The Council has abandoned us in our time of need. Terra stood alone. Her enemies surrounded her, and more grew within."_

" _The Council betrayed us. The 'Council Betrayal' they called it… the naming's a bit unoriginal, but anyway, we were left alone! We were like the Danubian Federation, facing the might of the Nazis."_

" _Betrayed in the Munich Conference, Dan… wait, what did you say?"_

" _The Nazis demanded the Sudetenland from the Danubians, and the Western Powers let it happen. All for the false promise of 'Peace for our Time'"_

" _You mean Czechoslovakia?"_

" _What the hell is a Czechoslovakia?"_

" _What do you mean "What the hell is a Czechoslovakia?" You have to be kidding me. What the hell did they teach you at school?"_

" _Hey, I have a minor in Pre-21st century history! I even wrote a hundred-page thesis about how the Nazi Holy Roman Empire and the Russo-Americans sign the Molotov-Kissinger Pact to invade and divided up the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth. The Federal Council even included it in the Codex for our Second Weltkrieg! Beat that, Wikipedia!"_

Turn aside _"Tell Congress I want a new education bill, now!"  
_ Turn back _"Alex… I'm going to slap you."_

 _ **A detailed conversation between Terran President Jeremy Bishop and Bishop Enterprises CEO Alexander Bishop about the Council withdrawal during the Great Autumn War and the backdrop of the Terran Second World War. This interview was later thrown out from use for the History Channel's Forrest Accord: Nation, Scourge, and Sacrifice – 2177**_

* * *

\/\/\/\/\/\/ **A/N** \/\/\/\/\/\/

Two years in. Its an amazing thought for me.  
And to the readers, thank you so much for you readership.  
I hope you all enjoyed. The support means so much to me.

This chapter should have came a bit sooner, admittedly.  
Like my friend **_Apollonir_** , I got plenty of school left for this final semester,  
and that bachelor degree of mine couldn't come sooner.  
Besides the job hunt, I hope the free time means a quicker publishing turn out.  
But you can count that I'll be writing all the while.

So, as always, thanks for reading and please feel free to review and comment.  
I welcome all constructive comments, for I always aim to improve my writing!  
If you got any questions or opinions to voice, always feel free to add it to a review, or PM me.  
I'd be glad to answer!

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

* * *

Posted on April 15, 2018 - Beta-read by MoonSword1994


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